


The Shadows That Remain

by Shadow_Chaser



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Author Favorite Character: Legolas, Author's 2nd Favorite Character: Haldir, Badass Elves, Blood Magic, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Dead Fish (Dove): Do not eat, Elemental Magic, Gen, LotR in the future, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2003-01-02
Updated: 2004-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:13:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 38
Words: 111,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22644676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadow_Chaser/pseuds/Shadow_Chaser
Summary: This is the future, where nothing is written, nothing bound, nothing in the Light. Darkness covers, darkness falls…darkness tries to keep all and the rule all. All one very big game, one very large game Eru plays with his counterpart Aru.And the stage is set for the last move.This time the players do not want to play, yet are forced to join one last time – in the 20th Age of the Sun, the Moon rises to dawn and new players join with the old – the Fellowship awakened, and of the Shadows that remain, One to Rule them All.
Relationships: Aragorn | Estel & Legolas Greenleaf, Aragorn | Estel/Arwen Undómiel, Arwen Undómiel & Elladan & Elrohir, Elladan & Elrohir & Legolas Greenleaf, Gimli (Son of Glóin) & Legolas Greenleaf, Glorfindel & Legolas Greenleaf, Haldir of Lothlórien & Legolas Greenleaf
Kudos: 1





	1. Story/Technical Notes

**Author's Note:**

> 2/9/20:  
> This story was first posted on fanfiction.net. Hot on the heels of the LotR craze by the Peter Jackson movies, I wrote this story on the premise of three things: 1) Legolas was awesome and I needed more Legolas being awesome. 2) WTF filmmakers for killing off Haldir in "Two Towers" (he was awesome). 3) I need to somehow throw Silmarillon references into an LotR story.
> 
> Being a rabid fangirl, I make no apologies for the OOC-ness of some of the characters, but I was a very young writer back in the days of LotR's release. I'm not sure if I'll ever finish this even though this was one of the first stories I plotted completely before I sat down and wrote it. All chapters are posted as-is, even if they have mistakes.

###  _A test of Will…_

_**A test of Courage…** _

_**A test of Time…** _

_**The trials of Technomages;** _

_**the trials of Vernomages;** _

_**the trials of those who live** _

_**For the Shadow that remains,** _

_**the Shadow that haunts all…** _

_**the last battle to prove worthiness…** _

_**The Fellowship has been reawakened…** _

_**Of the Shadows that Remain,** _

_**One to Rule them All** _

* * *

_Elves, immortal and fairest of all, great warriors, poets, and excelling in everything; such a simple mistake. Hobbits, little creatures with such simple minds, yet such big hearts; the trials of those little ones. Dwarves, such greedy feelings, yet such simple desires…the temptation has drove them to madness. Men, the race that combines all, but falters into Shadow, until the Savior leads them not into temptation, but into salvation. Maiar, sheepherders, guides, wisest of all, yet easily corrupted except for those few. Valar, the Gods of them all – One who fell into dark, the rest doomed to such a similar fate? Eru, the One in the void, planning its schemes for all._

_But this is the future, where nothing is written, nothing bound, nothing in the Light. Darkness covers, darkness falls…darkness tries to keep all and the rule all. All one very big game, one very large game Eru plays with his counterpart Aru._

_And the stage is set for the_ _**last move** _ _._

_This time the players do not want to play, yet are forced to join one last time – in the 20_ _th_ _Age of the Sun, the Moon rises to dawn and new players join with the old – the Fellowship awakened, and of the Shadows that remain, One to Rule them All._

* * *

_**The Fellowship:** _

Fredrick Baskerville (Frodo Baggins)

Sam Granger (Samwise Gamgee)

Matthew Biggs (Meriadoc Brandybuck)

Phillip Theatum (Peregrin Took)

Alexander Richard (Aragorn son of Arathorn)

Legolas Thranduillion

George Griston (Gimli son of Gloin)

Benjamin Greens (Boromir son of Denethor)

Gandalf the White

_**Supporting Cast:** _

Anna Elanore (Arwen Undomiel)

Elizabeth Ruthersfield (Eowyn daughter of Eomund)

Edward Ruthersfield (Eomer son of Eomund)

Franklin Greens (Faramir son of Denethor)

Galadriel

Celeborn

Elrond Perendil

Haldir

Glorfindel

Elladan

Elrohir

_**The Valar:** _

Manwe, the Wind King

Varda, Queen of Stars

Ulmo, Lord of Waters

Nienna, the Weeper

Aule, the Smith

Yavanna, Giver of Fruits

Orome, Lord of the Forest

Vana, the Youthful

Mandos, Keeper of the Dead

Vaire, the Weaver

Lorien, Master of Dreams

Este, the Healer

Tulkas, the Wrestler

Ness, the Dancer

_**The Maiar:** _

Radagast the Brown

Saruman the White/Black

Alethea the Blue

Olesia the Grey

_**The Enemy:** _

Aru the Counterpart

Melkor (Morgoth), the Dark Enemy

Sauron the Black

The Nine - Black Riders  
  


* * *

### Technical Information

 **Note:** Please read this over instead of skipping it, as it is very important for the fic. If you do not get the terminologies within this fic after reading this, they will all be explained within.

# Index

**The Mages:**

Technomage –

  * _Human –_ An advance human who underwent the process treatment of Mage-Link successfully, able to combine technology and Dust to create magic. Those who were not successful are called Techno-Wilders, or Wilders and are to be avoided at all costs because they are extremely dangerous. They can power up their magical ability by killing others.

  * _Elf –_ All Elves are true Technomages and Vernomages, able to mimic the same things as humans are known to do, but in a more ‘pure’ fashion, they are also able to generate powerful spells. They do not need Dust or Mage-Link. There are no Wilders among Elves. They can power up their magical ability by killing others.




Vernomage –

  * _Human –_ Found mostly in women, they are considered Technomages with the same treatment of Mage-Link as human Technomages, but are able to summon mythological creatures or creatures of any sort, depending on their amount of power they have within themselves. Unlike human Technomages, there is no way for human Vernomages to power up their magical abilities. Most women are Vernomages, but to defile a Vernomage, who is a virgin, turns that Vernomage into an Irimage for good.

  * _Elf –_ Like humans, Elves can be both Vernomage and Technomage though it is rare. It is also rare that male Elves show the talent of being a Vernomage. Glorfindel is one of the few exceptions along with Elrond Perendil. Galadriel is one of the few known Techno and Vernomages. To defile an Elf who is a Vernomage and a virgin does not turn that Elf into an Irimage.




Irimage –

  * _Human –_ Men and women mages who have gone dark and only live to see the suffering of others. They are very powerful as they can channel their dark emotions into their spells. The Nine are the most powerful Irimages. They also can cast and summon hideous creatures. Irimages cannot be saved into the ‘Light’, and are forever in the darkness of themselves until the Game is over or they are dead.

  * _Elf –_ For those Elves that had fallen to shadow, by methods of torture and so forth, but have not turned into Orcs yet, they are among the most potent enemies who only serve Aru’s purposes. In the crossroads of becoming dark, and Elf has the choice of becoming an Irimage or an Orc…if choosing to become an Irimage, he or she is bound to Aru’s will and domination.




* * *

**Terminologies:**

_Dust –_ The wellspring of magic/mana drawn from the person’s own will. It was first created by extracting the fibers of mythical beasts, created into a fine powder, and combined with the process of Mage-Link. Within all blood streams of humans who underwent the process of Mage-Link, it is bound to the person’s will. If the person’s will is strong, the ‘mana’ is strong. Vice-versa. Dust can be cut off if the person’s soul has been destroyed. When that happens the person falls into shadow and becomes an Irimage.

_Mage-Link –_ A scientific experiment conducted on humans captured at random from young to old. No one knows who or why they conduct these experiments though it is linked to the manipulations of Eru and Aru to create a whole new battlefield. Started by Zenith Technology Corporations.

_Zenith Technology Corporations (Z-Tech) –_ A corporation owned by Saruman the White/Black. He plays for both sides to see if he could get a gain on either Eru or Aru. The corporation is one of the two largest economic controllers of the world, with Lorien Technologies Incorporated as its rival. Headquarters located in London, England.

_Lorien Technologies Incorporated (Lorien Inc.) –_ A corporation that specializes on technologies, which is also a front for the Resistance, headed by Celeborn, Galadriel, Thranduil, and Elrond (but mostly Celeborn, Galadriel, and Elrond as the Triumvirate). The Resistance serves to drive back the evil, in hopes that Eru would be able to dominate the Earth with his glory and power. Headquarters are located in the White City.

_The White City –_ The-City-That-Will-Not-Be-Named, the City of Hope, The City-That-Cannot-Fall. The secret base of the Resistance, fronted by Lorien Inc. It is where dreams never die and hope still exists. Many bases of the White City are scattered, but there is one in Boston, now called the Gold City.

_The Golden City (Boston, MA) –_ Where the population of humans live in peaceful serenity under the watchful eyes of Elrond Perendil who heads the Lorien Inc. in that sector. Security is heavy in and out of the city, as each crime can sentence you to either a life sentence in prison or instant death. But underneath it, is the city of lies, debauchery, and deceit as evil festers here. Mage-Link experiments are conducted here.

_The Black City (New York City, NY) –_ The City of Lost Souls and of the Undead, it is the Middle Earth equivalent of Mordor, and the Empire State Building is the equivalent of Barad-dur. A haven for festering evil, Sauron lies in its innermost quiet and waiting while everything runs rampant above. This is where Aru sets the stage for the final game play as it is the irony where long ago, the Trees of Valinor once stood on this city.

_The Grey City (London, England) –_ The Middle Earth equivalent of Isengard, as Saruman the Betrayer and Trickster holds his lair here. It is where Mage-Link was found and still is performed. The northern areas of England are populated with mythological creatures that it creates a perfect defense or army to invade the rest of the world.


	2. Prologue: Vigiliance

A fire crackled in the most unlikely place, on the top of a tall building that housed one of the world’s greatest economic financer, but that fire gave off a homely kind of feeling. The snapping and popping of wood being burnt, oxygen being consumed by the burning flame was enough to remind the person sitting on a high backed chair what memories he had.

It all seemed so long ago, so distant, and yet so fresh in his mind. He wasn’t over sixty thousand years old for nothing, as the memories were permanently meshed in his mind. But some memories he had let fade away, like the pain of loosing his wife, but then after crossing over to the Grey Havens, he had found her again, alive, healthy, and still full of the love she had given to him ever since they had met.

He flipped through the pages of a very old book, his sharp ears listening to the crackling of the pages as they threatened on the brink of tearing themselves out of the page, or even to crumble into fine dust, as books this old weren’t meant to last. But they had endured, as a spell had been cast on them, to preserve them for all eternity.

He did not want history to repeat itself, but yet, it seemed that with the race of Men, as always, the Secondborn, they were notorious for forgetting such things, even with their great leaders. No, he couldn’t call them Men now, as that was the old term back in the early Ages of the Sun, they were now called Humans, diverse and multicultural.

In ways, he had to admit to himself, they had evolved like Elves, some appreciative of nature, others of the art of warfare, and they all spoke different languages, every one of them musical to the ears of his kind. But the same weakness remained, and he had to admit, Aragorn was right, humans, whether formally called Men or Secondborn, had a terrible weakness running through their veins.

Though some rose above it, the rest of the human race, populated into so much like rabbits, or coonies, were eventually doomed to their fate of the endless waltz of rebellion, war, peace. There was no end to the bloodshed, and he knew why this cause was so.

It took him a while to discover why this was happening to humans, and even to some Elves to an extent, but it was because of the growing darkness, the growing puzzle that was to end soon. He glanced down at the page he turned to and sighed softly. Here in this page lay everything that shone of the terrible manifestation that was to happen.

###  _**A test of Will…** _

_**A test of Courage…** _

_**A test of Time…** _

_**The trials of Technomages;** _

_**the trials of Vernomages;** _

_**the trials of those who live** _

_**For the Shadow that remains,** _

_**the Shadow that haunts all…** _

_**the last battle to prove worthiness…** _

_**The Fellowship has been reawakened…** _

_**Of the Shadows that Remain,** _

####  _One to Rule them All_

Technomages were now the Human Race, driven by years and years of genetic tampering, something even the Elves were not so keened to do, but the Human Race was always unpredictable, much like Hobbits, he fancied.

But there was a new wrinkle in the fabric of this so called ‘Game’…he had discovered that the Fellowship were being reborn…an added bonus to let this ‘Game’ end on the side of good…and he needed someone to keep an eye on them…

“Celebrian?” he called, looking at the door that lead to the study he was sitting in.

“Yes?” his wife, a fair beauty, peeked her head in.

“Please contact Ithilien, tell him that we would need to use his services…you know of what I speak about.”

“Then it is true, has Elessar returned?” Celebrian’s face lost all pretenses of a smile and grew serious.

“It’s true,” he replied then watched as she nodded once then closed the door behind her as she left to deliver the message.

For the Elven Lord Elrond Perendil, he knew that the war was only beginning, and that though it would take time to assemble the Fellowship once more, he also knew that the stakes had just been raised in this deadly game of ‘chess’ that Eru and Aru were playing. Valar only knew how the outcome was to occur…or maybe they did not…

But Elrond was willing to keep all his hopes on those he trusted.


	3. Hostages

_30 Years Later_

Rain, huge droplets of rain fell, as it didn’t just rain in the Black City, it was a monsoon. The weather forever changed by the technologies of human beings since the early 20th Century, humans were pretty lucky not to fall into an nuclear winter, but instead, obliterated each one with their use of magic and technology. The United States of America was now most probably the Broken States of America, but they were still ruled by a President…more so a puppet to the title than to the real power.

The real power laid in those able to wield Dust and Mage-Link. The Age of Mages, as this was known, had arisen, and the Black City was on the top of it.

Formerly New York City by old Millennial terms, it had turned into a dark, decrepit, wasteful haven for those without hope, those willing to kill, and those who have gone insane. For the few who had not escaped when the various Mages captured the city and installed a puppet Mayor, they were left to fend for themselves.

But the Mayor had at least some peace of mind to recreate the Police Department, and they were the ones keeping the peace between mafias, gangs, and psycho Mages who were on the loose inside the city. The beginnings of the Mages appeared in the latter part of the 21st Century, with the advent of cloning that had gone awry, Mage-Link was created. It was a process in which scientists tested on humans, of varying races, ages, and genders, to see if humans, if not cloned, could be turned into weapons of mass destruction.

After all, it was a time of war.

The five superpowers of the former United Nations had been reduced to squabbling children, all who could not decide the fate of various warring nations in the former Middle East. China, Russian Federation, United States, United Kingdom, and France, the five permanent members of the Security Council, had gone to war with each other. Naturally, the United States had allied itself with the United Kingdom while the Russian Federation allied themselves with Communist China. France, however, remained heavily neutral, not giving in to each side and refusing to bow down to the wishes of the other four countries.

The war was near catastrophic, as nuclear devices were hurled at each other, killing many, while the countries not involved watched as a nation, in its mere teenage years, lost most of its glory in the aftermath of the war.

It was during this war, the War of the Great Nations, or as some dubbed it World War III, that the British discovered Mage-Link and the mysterious properties of Dust. When effectively combined with in the human bloodstream and through various tests, a person wielding the powers of technology and magic was as effective as a weapon.

America and the other countries got their hands on the technology and started the draft and proscriptions, rounding up various people, children even, and testing the technology on them without a care. Thus the three forms of Mages were created, Technomages, Vernomages, and Irimages.

But something went wrong in the latter years as the Mages rebelled, most of them furious at their own nations for deceiving them and taking them hostage for them to be created into weapons. Rebellion occurred, and governments changed. The world fell into shadow and darkness and now…the lawless ruled the world.

It was a sad life, but with the creation of the New York Police Department, here in the city itself, there was at least some law to keep those innocent from becoming guilty.

And here, Alexander Richard crouched, hidden partially beneath a junk wreckage of what was once a hover car; now all mangled up and rusted. Alec, as he was known to most, didn’t really like standoffs, especially with a psychotic Technomage running around…well the psycho couldn’t be considered a true Technomage as he was in reality, a Techno-Wilder, or Wilder.

A Technomage gone insane.

He raked a hand through his soaked hair, shivering slightly at a cold wind that blew the monsoon-like rain into his face. There were two squads, him included, waiting outside an abandoned apartment complex, long ago reduced to jagged rubble, waiting for the Wilder to show himself.

The Wilder had taken two hostages, a young boy of roughly ten, and his sister, a young girl of eight. Innocents living on the streets, runaway kids that probably had a better chance of survival on the streets rather than in foster care homes. He had taken them and demanded that the city give him transportation out of the city safely and to the rural areas, and to also treat him of his insanity.

Now, they were waiting as negotiations were falling through the roofs as the rain was, slipping out of hands and into the sewers.

“Hey, Alec!” a hushed voice called to him and he turned slightly, wiping more water from his dark brown crew cut. His partner, a just-graduated police academy kid, was beckoning to him.

“What?” he replied, trying to make the conversation short as there could be no distractions while they were stuck in this situation.

“What’s happening?”

Alec resisted the urge to throttle his partner into the wall, only clenching a fist to remind himself that he had taken on Tony Clemet because he had lost a bet with one of the other officers on the force, not to mention that he personally felt sorry for the poor gawky, slightly nerdy kid.

Though he did not know how Tony passed the Police Academy, the seemingly nerdy kid was very brave at times, yet didn’t really have the initiative to take charge or learn about a situation through observance and waiting.

“Nothing really…just good ol’ Ben trying to use his persuasive arguments,” another voice replied and Alec grinned at Robert Grenado, one of his good friends on the force. With his coal black skin and dark uniform, he had almost blended into the background, and Alec had nearly forgotten that he was there.

“Yeah…the persuasive type, that’s our Ben,” he agreed, shaking his head slightly as he peeked over to where the captain of their unit was standing with a megaphone, his shoulder length brown hair stringy and soaked along with the rest of his uniform. Though his back was towards him, Alec imagined that Captain Benjamin Greens’ face was in his usual perpetual frown, his eyes a myriad of conflicting emotion, one of his hands stroking the goatee on his face. A Technomage stood next to him to keep him protected or warn him of something if the Wilder made any sudden moves.

The Technomage was wearing a black cloak that was water repellent and she didn’t seem fazed about anything. Her blonde hair was pulled back tightly, and though he couldn’t remember her name, he knew that she was an imperious woman, always catching the gazes of at least everyone whom she walked passed, whether in her uniform or not. Of the Police Department’s six Technomages and two Vernomages, they had three Technos here and one Verno due to the seriousness of the situation.

See, the Wilder that they were dealing with was one that had given them constant headaches in the past. He had grown very powerful in the last few years and they really needed to stop him or else more innocents would die.

He knew that the Wilder wouldn’t have any qualms about killing the children, but with three Technomages and a Vernomage they would hopefully be able to take the Wilder down. In general terms, Technomages were able to use offensive attack spells, but weren’t able to cast defensive ones. That was what a Vernomage was; a healer and a defensive spell caster.

But for a Techno-Wilder, there were varying degrees as some Wilders could cast a few spells usually reserved for a Vernomage, or even cast the spells of an Irimage. It all depended on the person him or herself.

“We’re giving you one last chance Wilder! Release the hostages and come out peacefully. We would be able to give you the treatment you want, we would be able to help you cure your sickness!” Ben’s sudden voice boomed loudly from the megaphone he was holding.

The silence that ended with that statement was loud enough for Alec to hear the near by breathing of a few officers. The falling monsoon rain that pattered off everything only punctuated it. Then a sudden rumble, almost like the deep growl of a monster awakening shook the ground. The sound suddenly octave into a pitch that rattled Alec’s eardrums and he clapped his hands and gritted his teeth as it vibrated throughout the area. He dimly noticed that the rest of the officers all did the same, and only the Technos and Verno didn’t seem to be fazed at all. They just stood watching the building with their glowing green eyes, all varying degrees of brightness.

Suddenly the noise stop just as sudden as it started and Alec shook his head slightly, trying to clear the phantom ring that was left from the noise. He looked up just in time to see a pinkish shield falling overhead, a dome shaped thing encasing all of them in its protective barrier.

Looking over towards where Ben was standing he saw their Vernomage trading places with the Technomage. Her right hand was held in a fist and it glowed pink as she was generating the protective shield, that basically shield everything, including the monsoon-rain. Was the Wilder to attack or show himself soon?

“He’s coming out,” she said in her soft monotone voice echoing in the dome, in which the rain was pattering off of, sometimes hissing as steam rose from it.

The resounding crescendo of the guns being loaded or safety being pulled off was loud like firecracker and they waited…

It was as if the building suddenly exploded outwards, sending chunks of bricks, wooden beams and various materials flying through the air. Though everyone knew that the shield their Vernomage created was going to hold it and repel the debris, it was still human to duck slightly as the debris came flying down on top of them.

From the cloud of debris, there was a crackling sound and the Wilder slowly rose from the debris only to hover above them. Alec craned his head up to see that he was holding the two children, one in each arm. They were crying freely and the sounds of their cries were softer than what he thought possible, but that was because of the interference the shield made in sound quality.

“You shouldn’t have challenged me,” the Wilder spoke, his voice precise, intoned…full of malice. “Three Technomages and a Vernomage…all to bring me down! Ha! What a pathetic excuse to be the saviors of this city, this world! I can kill these children with one blow and you can do nothing about it…”

“Don’t count us out, Wilder,” one of the Technomages suddenly leapt from the barrier and landed with the training and balance of a soldier on an outcropping near the Wilder who stared at him with a look of pure contempt on his face.

“Don’t make me laugh, Technomage,” he sneered, “you haven’t seen my true power yet.”

It was as if someone seared a spotlight on the whole street they were in, as suddenly the Wilder’s eyes glowed brightly, almost a bright green-yellow color, and his features became more twisted as the changes to him were wearing away. Parts of his hair started to turn into shiny white strands… Alec drew in a sharp breath as he realized that the Wilder was more than he seemed and had been concealing all his power within himself to lure the police into a false sense of security.

“ _I would have gone with you to the end. Into the fires of Mordor.”_

The sudden voice in his mind was enough to bring Alec into his senses and he watched, horrified as the Wilder, still glowing in his power while blinding the others, raised a lazy finger and a sudden tight white beam shot from his finger and straight through the Vernomage that was standing next to Ben.

The glow of power vanished from the Wilder and everyone was released from the temporary blindness, but Alec’s feet were already moving. He pounded up towards Ben, startling his captain, but roughly pushed him aside as he caught the falling Vernomage. She collapsed into his arms, blue eyes wide with surprise and fear, her breath quick, light…

He had a feeling of déjà vu flash within him, as if something like this happened before, but he shook it off as he examined the wound she had received. It was straight through her heart…she was going to die and he had seen it…he could have saved her, but he didn’t react.

She tried to speak, but her mouth was frothing with the mixture of sputum and blood, and they bubbled lightly.

“Shh…” he whispered to her, not really knowing what to do…he didn’t even know her for crying out loud, but could feel tears brimming on the edges of his eyes. It was all so confusing…it was as if he knew her from long ago, someone he might have cared for in a past life.

“El…” she made an attempt to speak and Alec leaned a bit closer to hear.

“Elessar…” she whispered before he felt her body go limp in his arms. Drawing back, he blinked as he watched her eyes close softly, and her face lost all signs of pain. She looked like she was sleeping…

“Run! Run for cover!” the sounds of the hostage situation came back to Alec as he was pulled back sharply. He stumbled a bit and fell to the ground, but then glanced up and saw a lightning bolt hit the place where he had been kneeling. Glancing behind him he saw that Robert had saved him from becoming a crisp policeman. However, behind him, Tony was visibly shaking, his hand twitching, the gun in it vibrating like someone threw it into a washing machine and set it on fast spin.

His partner was scared shitless and he nearly got fried. And for good reason as he turned back to see the Vernomage’s body suddenly engulfed in a blue light; little white dots that looked like stars rose from her body and shot towards the Wilder who was smiling an insane smile. Taking the powers of the dead Vernomage he had killed, he was enjoying the experience of absorbing her powers.

Another crackle of lightning lanced out everywhere and it was then that Alec realized that the shield had been demolished with the Vernomage’s death, and that the three Technomages were also lashing out with their own powers.

A column of fire struck the floating Wilder, but there was no effect as a pinkish barrier, much like the one that had been protecting them erupted around the Wilder.

“Ha! Keep on attacking me and I’ll kill the little ones!” the Wilder taunted and suddenly released the little boy who screamed as he fell.

“No!” was the outrage cry of a few officers.

Alec’s eyes would have bugged out had he not been used to such random things happening. As the boy fell, the Wilder pointed a finger at him and a sphere of the pink shield went up around him, holding him afloat and he hovered, mere inches above the outstretched arms ready to catch the boy.

“You will all suffer and die,” the Wilder pronounced with a cruel smile and Alec narrowed his eyes as he watched him clench a fist and the rain fell faster, almost like bee stings when the lightning started to strike in earnest.

He ducked as a particularly close one hit the ground near him. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as the electrical current passed close to him. The screams of police officers being fried by the lightning were echoed by the thunder rolling around. He drew his gun and started to fire some distracting shots at the Wilder, but they all bounced off the shield.

Taking a desperate glance at the Technomages, he noticed one limp by a pile of rubble, his arms hanging in awkward position. They were in deep shit this time, with no one to back them up. Any of the citizens to hang around this area that were smart enough were long gone by now…

He suddenly ducked behind a slab of concrete as the scatter fire of lightning raked across his area. Catching his breath for a few seconds, he glanced around at the situation at hand. At least most of the officers were hiding, some taking pot shots at the shield surrounding the Wilder. Ben was furiously communicating with someone as he kept yelling into the communication device he held, while ducking as the occasional lightning raked by.

It seemed that only two of the Technomages were battling it out with the Wilder, and though he couldn’t see them, he could hear the furious yells and cries of spells casted.

He pounded a fist against the wet soggy ground and grounded some of the mud together. He hated this…they shouldn’t just all be hiding and become sitting ducks. Who gave a shit about risks…the hostages were the foremost, important to save. Peering from a corner, he noticed that while in the frenzy of battle, the Wilder had not been paying close attention to the crying boy, and he hovered just in reach…Alec hoped that he had the element of speed and surprise…

Launching himself from his hiding place, he ran towards the little boy, taking a flying leap off of the pile of debris where Ben had stood before, and ‘flew’ towards the little boy. He felt his body impact the shield around the little boy, its reflective power burning his skin underneath his uniform, but he willed himself to press past the pain and suddenly broke through.

In his slightly surprise, he let instinct take over as he wrapped his arms around the boy’s form, breaking the contact the Wilder had in floating the boy and the two of them crash landed onto the concrete-debris littered ground. Alec rolled to a stop, mostly keeping his body in contact with the ground as he tried to protect the little boy. His trajectory was halted as he thumped into a lamppost.

The force of the impact left him slightly breathless, but he shook his head to clear whatever dizziness he had then glanced down at the boy who was clinging onto him. He was all right…he was fine…he was-

“How dare you…” the Wilder’s cold voice made all the blood freeze within Alec’s veins and he turned slightly to see the Wilder facing him, his bright glowing green eyes ablaze with fury. To a certain irony, Alec cracked a smile as he realized that the Wilder was surely to kill him, but he didn’t really care. He had done his duty as a police officer; he had done justice in trying to protect this little boy.

Focusing his steely gaze on the Wilder at all times, he lifted his chin defiantly and watched as the Wilder raised a glowing fist, a fist crackling with lightning, then suddenly splay his fingers out at him. The lightning traveled towards him and Alec kept his eyes locked on the Wilder’s at all times. He was going to die, but by whatever Gods rule this Earth, he was going to die protecting the little boy.

The sudden impact of the lightning against what looked to be a pinkish shield, mere inches from his face was enough for Alec to start in surprise. Where had that come from? Glancing down at the little boy’s form he saw that the boy was glowing with the pinkish power of creating a shield, and that pinkish glow was radiating onto his arms and hands that were wrapped protectively around the boy. Was the boy a Vernomage?

A sudden scream brought Alec back to where the Wilder was floating…no he wasn’t floating anymore, he was falling. Gunshots rang out, hitting the falling Wilder each time, jerking his body until he fell to the ground unmoving.

The Wilder had died.

But Alec hoped that at least one of the Technomages made the final blow and not one of the officers in the squad… He watched as a swirling vortex of power formed around the Wilder, spinning until it became a small whirlwind of white light then suddenly it shot towards the section where he had been taking cover before. Alec watched as the column of light pass by officers…and headed towards one of the Technomages…

He let a sigh of relief out as he realized that none of the officers fired the last shot that killed the Technomage…the sigh of relief was unwarranted as an agonized scream rang out above the rain. It was the scream of a person dying, a person in great pain…

Alec watched, horrified, as he saw the column of light, not hit the Technomage, but one of the officers…his partner Tony. Tony had been slammed up against a wall, and the light was pinning him against the wall. Tendrils raked all over his body, leaving trails of blood where they touched him. All those around him stood back, watching with wide eyes as they saw one of their own being killed in front of them. There was nothing anyone could do, but to let this great amount of power consume Tony from within and outside.

He turned his head as Tony gave one more agonized scream before it was suddenly cut off. Squeezing his eyes shut at the loss of his partner, he clenched a fist in grief. Tony was just a green officer, not even days out of the academy and he had to die on his first assignment…

“Hey, Alec, you all right?” Robert’s voice asked from above and he felt him shaking his shoulder, but Alec nodded numbly.

“Yeah…” he replied, forcing his fist to unclench and he looked up at his friend’s sad eyes. “He was only a kid, Robert…just a goddamn freaking kid!”

“I know…I know…” Robert nodded sympathetically, “you better get up, the captain’s coming.”

Alec hesitated. He wanted to grieve badly, and wondered if insubordination would get him anywhere if he didn’t greet Ben…but like a heavy old flag unfurling itself in the heavy wind, he forced his body to rise, his arms still holding the little boy. Giving as much as a crisp salute to Benjamin Greens as he could, all he wanted to do was to bash something…something to rid himself of the grief he had within. He had failed Tony…

“Good work Alec,” Ben started, “I’m sorry for the loss of Tony…he was a good kid…”

“Yeah…I know…” steeling himself to keep his voice steady, he shifted his shoulders slightly, between the pain of losing his partner, the boy he had save was kind of heavy, something he wasn’t used to.

“We better get him to the precinct,” Ben nodded his head at the boy who looked at him with wide eyes.

“Where’s my sister?” the little boy asked and Alec noted hesitation written across Ben’s face.

“She’s…sleeping for the moment,” Ben said gravely and Alec realized that the little boy’s sister had died…but how he didn’t know.

“Oh,” the boy seemed to accept this lie, “when we get to…um…the precinct, can I see her?”

“Uh…sure…” Ben replied, fidgeting.

“Come on kid, let Uncle Robert take you in one of our hover cars…” Robert leaned over and took the boy from Alec’s arms and walked away. “Say kid, what’s your name?”

“David…”

As they walked away, Alec shook his head, splattering water everywhere. The rain had died down to something of a light drizzle. He turned to Ben who was watching Robert and the kid named David walk towards one of the hovercars.

“Eight death reports to fill out,” Ben said in a monotonous voice. “Seven of our officers died…the rest injured…”

“You’ll have to tell your father that our Vernomage was killed…” Alec looked towards where the Vernomage still lay, seemingly sleeping.

“Gwen Turner…” Ben bowed his head, “you know…she was a good friend of mine…I had known her since childhood…mother of two children…”

Alec didn’t know what to say, but placed a hand of support on Ben’s shoulder. His captain’s next words were so soft, but he heard them.

“I hate this job.”

As the two officers stood watching the clean up crew work, they didn’t notice a pair of glowing blue eyes watching them from the distance. Those glowing blue eyes blinked once, and then disappeared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably one of the rare times I’m going to put an Author’s Notes at the end of chapters, but I just wanted to clear up that I have read The Nightrunners’ “Brothers in Arms” story, but this fic that I’m writing is totally different from theirs. I really appreciated their writings, which I find so interesting, but to tell you, I am not copying them by writing this fic. This story is just my own warped scheming of trying to make Tolkien roll over in his grave a few times. ^_^ Oh yeah, a happy belated birthday to J.R.R. Tolkien who turned 111 (^_^) on January 3.


	4. Friendship

A sigh of relief escaped his lips. For all the minutes he stood there watching the battle unfold, he thought that he would have to jump in and deal with the Wilder until he saw that things were going to be all right. There were times he had to step in and help the NYPD secretly to lead them in the right direction, but he didn’t really mind. It gave him more time to observe the Reincarnated Ones in a closer proximity.

For Legolas, who was codenamed by his employers Ithilien, he was glad that the two members of the Fellowship were safe. Though he was saddened by the death of the Vernomage as he had known who she was Reincarnated as, he didn’t really let it bother him too much. For the Reincarnation of Gilraen was little use to the plans of his employers. It was cold, callous, icy hearted his ways of thought at this time, but over twenty thousand years old, he wasn’t the young sprightly Elf anymore.

He had changed, grown, and matured and he knew it. His outlook was one of a tinge of sarcasm, but he knew what was at stake. All Elves knew what was at stake. Only the humans, the former race of Men, were the innocent ones, the ones who didn’t really know too much, whose lives were so brief and short on the Earth that they didn’t really have the time to explore the real meanings that kept eluding them. For each one of them they just lived here on the Earth for but a brief moment and it was kind of sad to see them go, after just roughly one hundred years on the planet.

Though some died off quicker than others, he had to admit that in that brief time for each person, they had flourished and failed as a society. The race of humans were weaker than they had ever been. Long gone was the resolve of fighting for good and resisting evil. Now evil was all that most humans knew.

As he turned down a different street, barely lit up by the dim flashing streetlamps, he hugged his tan trenchcoat closer to him, as a fierce cold breeze blew by. Though Elves weren’t really affected by the weather, it seemed that the wind held ill omens, and he felt a creepy feeling run through him. There was something about the whole Wilder attack that didn’t make sense…as if some kind of oppressive evil was working its magic around that area.

He didn’t really dwell on it too much as he filed that piece of information in the back of his mind. Sticking his hands into the pockets of his trenchcoat, he let his eyes wander the empty street, well mostly empty save the homeless or runaways scampering around. The blue glow in his eyes were bright enough to cast at least a dim flashlight glow onto the ground he was staring at or at any close object his eyes passed by, but he didn’t need the light as his eyes were fine and had always been.

His Elven eyes, after twenty thousand years needed nothing in terms of glasses or contacts. They were just as sharp as the day he had been born into the world. Except now they glowed blue with the mark of someone who has slain many Technomages. Though he could tell anyone the exact number of Technomages he had slain along with the number of Irimages too, he didn’t like to brag about his killings as some Elves or humans did.

There was only one person he brag his killings to, but Gimli son of Gloin was long dead. His Reincarnation, however, had no memory of the comradeship they had back in the old days of Middle Earth. His Reincarnation was probably currently in the New York Museum of Natural History, pouring over the artifacts he had recently found on a trip to Egypt.

Legolas shook his head ruefully, remembering the olden days. If he called those days ‘olden’ then was really very old…

“Not a good time to be spacing out, eh?” a voice sudden said from behind him and Legolas tensed.

He cursed himself silently for not paying attention to his surroundings as he turned his head slightly to see a man with a gun pointed to his back. A few strands of his hair were tinged with white streaks, a sign that he had killed a few Vernomages, while his eyes were a dim green glow, a sign that he had not killed too many Technomages. This man wasn’t really dangerous, but still possessed a certain amount of skill. He was probably just a newbie to killing people.

“Do you really want to kill me?” Legolas replied evenly, turning around so that the barrel of the gun was pointed at his chest. He held up his hands in a gesture of surrender, but also narrowed his eyes and made sure that the engraved skull on his palm was in clear view of the potential killer.

As it was, the man’s eyes widened as he stared at his skull-palm, which was a very dark black color, almost glittering in the dim streetlight and in the glow of Legolas’ eyes. He knew that humans usually thought other humans with skull-palms were highly trained assassins, and didn’t know them as Elves, but then again, he did look like a regular human with long blonde hair. The only thing that defined him as an Elf was his pointed ears, but with practice, he had managed to manipulate his ears to look more like a human’s round ears than the pointed ones of an Elf.

After all, there was no need to scare the whole population of Earth that Elves did really exist, and that J.R.R. Tolkien’s world was in fact, almost all true.

“Uh…uh…” the man was reduced to a blubbering mess, as his hand holding the gun shook as he slowly backed away, “sorry, man, very sorry…p-please don’t k-kill me…”

Legolas lowered his arms and rolled his eyes, “Get yourself a decent job. You don’t have to be living out in the streets like this. You’ll live longer if you put your skills to good use.” He turned and walked on, his sensitive ears listening as the man tripped over garbage cans and nearly ran over a cat on fleeing the scene.

Sticking his hands once more back into his pockets, he walked on, wishing that he had brought a hat or something to cover his soaked head. Though he wished he could create a shield against the rain using his powers, he really didn’t dwell on it due to the fact that he had rushed out of his apartment after hearing that the squad that the Reincarnated version of Boromir and Aragorn were going after the Wilder that had been bothering them for the last few years or so.

He rounded the corner of Mott Street and Bayard, in the former Chinatown section of Manhattan Island. Though still retaining its usual name, the area and probably the rest of New York City, had gone for a bit of renovation. A small Mage war had broken out around five years ago, and rampaging magical creatures had devastated the area. But the building formerly known as Confucius Plaza still stood proudly with its 44 floors intact…or mostly intact. There were a few floors that looked like it had been literally chewed apart, but the elevators still worked.

He crossed a few debris piles and leapt across some gaping caverns and headed into the tall apartment complex. Passing by a few of the homeless who made their cardboard shelters in the base of the complex, he pressed a button to summon one of four elevators and stepped back. He didn’t have to wait long for an elevator to come down and as the door hissed open, Legolas stepped forward…then hesitated and stepped back.

He kept his head down and waited quietly as the door closed after a few seconds and the elevator shot back up. Pressing the button again to summon a different elevator, he shook his head…he had forgotten about one of the elevators…

As another elevator opened up, he took a quick peek in and seeing that it was all clear, stepped in and pressed the button to the thirty-third floor. As the elevator shot up, he leaned against the wall and closed his eyes, letting his mind wander. He released the manipulative magic on his ears, and let out a soft sigh. Running around the whole New York area was frustrating at times, especially with the NYPD, with two members of the Fellowship in constant danger and three who were not part of the fellowship, but still important in equal danger. At least the hobbits were located in one area, Columbia University, and Gimli’s Reincarnation was content in staying at the Museum of Natural History, he didn’t really have to worry about them too much.

The slowing of the elevator made him snap his eyes open and he walked out as soon as it stopped and the doors opened. Legolas suddenly froze as he felt danger all around him. Something wasn’t right here…something foreign, maybe evil, maybe not, was here. Had he let an Irimage follow him back? Or were Orcs here? He couldn’t tell, but what he could tell was that the evil, or maybe not, emanated from his apartment.

He knew that he couldn’t run, he had nowhere to go and it was getting dangerous as the night passed on. Irimages and all sorts of vile creatures were now on the prowl and even a Technomage of his caliber could not hold off an attack by many Irimages should they come together and decide he was ripe for the pickings. No, besides, he was a warrior, skilled and able, he would be able to drive out whatever was in his apartment.

Taking out one of his milky white daggers that he had for so long, ever since he was born, as it was a gift from Cirdan of the Grey Havens, he held it concealed in his palm, the blade resting on his forearm and walked slowly towards his apartment.

He could feel the foreign presence…there were more than one…probably four that had invaded his apartment. As he approached his door, he wondered how they got through the barrier of attack spells he had covered his door with. Perhaps it was Irimages that had gotten in…and if so, he would need more than his dagger to combat them.

Casting a spell to open his door, he tensed and readied his weapon…

His dagger dropped to the ground as two objects latched onto him, both of them furiously embracing him. He staggered slightly from their weight and tried to reorient himself as he windmilled unsuccessfully and toppled to the ground, the two objects falling down with him.

Jarring pain flash through his back as he saw stars for a brief moment then shook his head to clear them and looked up into the cheery smiling faces of Elladan and Elrohir…his employer’s twin sons…

“Hi! So sorry about the glomping,” Elladan apologized cheerfully, a smile on his face, “but you haven’t called or given us your email address.”

“Yes, quite rude, you know,” Elrohir replied equally cheerfully then offered a hand to help Legolas up as the twins stood up themselves and brushed their clothes from the dirt and debris.

He took the hand, looking at them ruefully, and got up. They proceeded to brush the dirt and debris that he had gotten when he batted their hands away. He most certainly didn’t need their help after getting more than his back bruised. His ego was slightly wounded for being caught so off guard and gave them a slight glare, to which they either didn’t notice or didn’t care…probably both.

“Good to see you too,” he grumbled at them then bent down and picked up his dagger and sheathed it inside of his trenchcoat. The last time he had met the twins was during the Nano Wars, and even back then the twins had matured from being overly fanatical at killing Orcs, to becoming hyperactive almost children-like Elves.

He probably thought that it was an offshoot of finding their mother in the Undying Lands after they had crossed over roughly the time he had with Gimli. And if they possessed the same amount of hyper quality from just a few minutes ago, he wondered what state his apartment was in…

The twins bounded inside and he followed, preparing himself for meeting his apartment in shambles. He walked in, noticing that the hallway where he kept some of his weaponry, of both guns and a few swords he had acquired throughout the centuries, were intact…rounding the corner to enter into the main living area, he closed his eyes for a second, then opened them again.

His room wasn’t but a disaster…it looked like a tornado blew through it.

And sitting in the middle of all the wreckage, of all the Elves, was Haldir, who had the gall to be drinking what suspiciously looked like his last bottle of _miruvor_ that he had been saving. A quiet bubble of anger began to boil within him, and Legolas resisted the urge to scream out loud at the state his whole apartment was in, and instead looked at his best friend, for whom he hadn’t seen since the American Civil War, with narrowed eyes.

“This isn’t your last bottle if you’re wondering,” Haldir didn’t look up from the magazine he was reading, “It’s my own personal one. Went down to the store around the corner and found that they had _miruvor_ …or what they now called sake…it’s still not as good as the real thing, anyways, good to see you. Sorry about the disaster zone, the twins couldn’t contain themselves and insisted on exploring your apartment. They did not touch your weapons however, I know you’ve put some magic spells on them…”

With such an air of calm, Legolas stared at his friend incredulously then heaved a big sigh and rubbed his forehead. “Just answer this one question before I plan to throttle all of you up the wall and out thirty-three stories to the ground…How? How did you manage to break through my spell barrier on the door?”

Haldir looked up and smiled then indicated with a nod of his head for Legolas to turn around. He turned around and his jaw promptly dropped slightly in surprise. He hadn’t seen Glorfindel, Elrond’s right hand, since he had left for the Undying Lands.

“Sorry for the break in,” the Eldar replied then glared at the twins who were both tapping the fish tank in the corner of the living room, Elrohir making faces at the fishes who were both curious and scared and kept being attracted to the tapping yet scared at the faces the two Elves were making. “Annoying little Elves born in the Third Age,” he muttered and Legolas raised an eyebrow at the comment.

“Hope that wasn’t for me,” he said and Glorfindel smiled a bit sheepishly.

“Sorry…they insisted on coming for reasons of ‘throttling you to the wall for not giving your email address’ or something of that nature. Not to mention it’s better to have more than a pair of eyes when in the Black City,” Glorfindel replied, “to answer your question…you’re a Technomage, so a Vernomage, me being one, effectively cancels the spells you have on your door, simple as that. Though there was one particular spell that was pretty tough. Don’t worry, I’ve added a few of my own personal spells so that when you come with us to the Golden City you don’t have to worry about your apartment.”

“Wait a minute, I’m going where?”

“To the Golden City, Lord Elrond wants to talk with you…” Glorfindel replied, a bit business like. Legolas grimaced inwardly; as much as he admired the Eldar Elf, he hadn’t changed since the Third Age…still Elrond’s ‘enforcer’ and basically everything he should be…

“It’s like those quarterly reports that you have to make while in big business corporations,” Haldir offered, taking a sip of his sake while flipping a page in the magazine.

Haldir however, Legolas noticed, had changed…a lot. Gone was the long blonde hair of the Noldorian-Teleri Elf, and in place a stylish slicked back hairstyle, short and raggedly cut. He looked like a professional businessman, except for the ears that separated him from the human race.

Legolas sighed…he really didn’t have too much of a choice in the matter. If Elrond wanted to talk with him, then why not. He didn’t have much to do at the moment, and with the Wilder situation the NYPD was handling resolved, he knew that if he took a few days in the Golden City, then everything would still be mostly intact when he came back. “All right, just give me a few minutes to get a bit dried off. The weather out there is dreadful.”

“Sure take-“

There was a sudden yelp coming from one of the two twins and all heads turned as they saw Elrohir, taking his finger out of the fish tank, a fish stuck on the tip of his finger. He gave his hand a small shake, but the fish wouldn’t release its hold on his finger. Finally after dunking it back into the water and shaking it, the fish finally let go and swam off.

“Serves you right,” Haldir called towards the twins, Elladan who was snickering at his brother’s mournful expression.

“I knew I should have kept the piranha,” Legolas muttered as he glared once more at the twins who were the cause of the devastation to his apartment before stalking off to his bedroom to clean up a bit.


	5. Traveling

After getting cleaned up and into a fresh pair of clothing, Legolas shook out his wet trench coat, grimacing slightly at the condition of it. If the rain kept on for the rest of the night while he was traveling, then it would take him at least a day to dry the coat out. Though he could try to dry it with his magic, he didn’t want to risk burning the coat up…like what he did to his last one.

Before he stepped out, he opened a secret inside wall he had behind his closet. In it held his most prized possessions…including a few antiquated guns from different eras. If freelancing as an Irimage assassin didn’t work out to his liking, he knew that he could sell these weapons for a good amount of money to various museums. Picking one of the guns from the compartment, he checked its magazine then stuffed it inside of jacket. Though he didn’t know if he needed it, it still was good to carry at least some weapons on him, with Irimage gangs and the various Technomage mafias running around at night.

Stepping out of his room, he made his way around some of the overturned furniture caused by the twins’ mucking around and took a quick glance at the fish tank…he shook his head. The fishes looked traumatized and he had been taking good care of them.

As he passed by the hall where he hung some of the swords he had, he wondered if he should take a hat or maybe tie a bandana to his head…but decided against it as it was probably still drizzling, nothing as bad as a few hours before. Stepping out and closing the door behind him, he raised an eyebrow at the antics the twins were doing at the moment.

Haldir and Glorfindel apparently had gone ahead to summon an elevator, but the twins were playing a crude form of a game that Legolas noticed only deranged human teenagers with little to nothing to do played…ding-dong ditch. Well, they were attempting to press the doorbell on the first door…

“I wouldn’t if I were you,” he warned them and they stared at him with accusing eyes, “I think a few of my neighbors are Irimages.”

“So? We can handle them,” Elrohir sniffed.

“Eh…let’s not, okay?” Elladan calmed his brother down, “besides, we need to get going.”

“Fine,” Elrohir huffed, but didn’t look too happy about it.

They followed him to the main hall where the elevators were situated and came upon Haldir and Glorfindel, both with blushing faces and the remnants of an elevator closing.

“Hey, that one said that it was going down!” Elrohir jumped towards Glorfindel, whose hand was hovering on the down button. “How come…what’s wrong with you?”

The Eldar didn’t reply, but only gaped slightly like a fish out of water and Legolas felt a grin quirk to his face as he realized what the two Elves had stumbled upon. It was that elevator…the same elevator that he had encountered when he had come back from watching the NYPD take down the Wilder.

“Ah, I see that you’ve found it,” he said smoothly, bringing the shocked faces of both Glorfindel and Haldir to him.

“How…uh…” Glorfindel seemed at a lost for words.

“To say that two humans would do that…in an elevator,” Haldir looked pale, but swallowed and started to recover color back into his face.

“What? Do what?”

“What do you think, ‘Rohir?” Elladan smacked his brother upside his head then whispered in his ear. The change in expression in the younger twin’s face was priceless. Gone was the curious expression to one of pure disgust.

“Come on,” Legolas had to usher both Glorfindel and Elrohir into the second elevator called, assuring them that it was all clear, free of any humans having sex in an elevator. Giving one more shake of his head he pressed the button to take them down to the first floor.

Exiting from the elevator, they made their way past the various piles of debris and gaping holes that littered the area, all the while keeping a sharp eye on their surroundings. Legolas warned them occasionally of the various calls used by gang members or mafia people that were on the prowl at night.

Occasionally they had to duck out of sight as a rampaging summoned creature created by an Irimage or a Vernomage came through, destroying almost everything in its path. Though with five Elves all whom were excellent warriors, they didn’t want to attract too much attention to themselves, especially if people noticed five glowing blue pairs of eyes walking in a bunch, or a few paces from each other.

They made their way down Grand Street, towards the Williamsburg Bridge, which still stood after thousands of years. As they neared it, Legolas could see a small hover-copter, its matte black rotating blades angular and pristine.

Though the hover-copter still used blades to propel itself into the air, its combustion was not of gasoline or oil, but of energy cells, and it was equipped with the latest technological weaponry.

“Nice hover-copter,” he commented as they approached it.

“Why thank you, it’s a present from Dad,” Elladan grinned and made a mock bow before his eyes darted to the street that they were going to cross, “he gave it to us fresh from the assembly line. He was going to give us a jet, but said those were for Cirdan and-”

“Hold,” Glorfindel suddenly commanded, and Legolas halted. He noticed that the Eldar was narrowing his eyes, a scanning spell being put into place. “A gang of Irimages…I think maybe fifteen or something, headed our way.”

“How long?” Haldir asked, his hands suddenly crackling with blue lightning as he readied a spell. The command and authoritative tone in Haldir’s voice was enough to make Legolas cringe slightly.

Ever since Haldir received the title of a guard general from his predecessor Thorwen, the personal general of Galadriel and Celeborn, during the rise of Angmar and Sauron back in the early fifteenth century of the Third Age, he had become a commander to all, and developed a type of ego that conflicted with other Elven generals. With him and Glorfindel, the Eldar being Elrond’ guard general or right hand, Legolas wondered if a small tiff or conflict was to brew between the two Elves.

“We won’t be able to get into the air unless we can fight them off,” Glorfindel frowned.

“Leave that to us,” Elladan said, “you just keep those Irimages off our backs.”

“Better hurry it up, they’re here,” Haldir called wirily before combining the crackling electricity in his hands together and shooting off a column of blue lightning towards the group of Irimages running towards them, their glowing red eyes hungry, scattering them apart.

The Irimages had blood red eyes that seemed like everything dripped, and their bodies hunched, but their teeth were fangs and they glistened with inhuman predatory smiles. As soon as they scattered they began to rush forth, abandoning all pretenses of slinking up to them stealthily.

Legolas drew out his gun, but instead of firing at the Irimages, he combined it with his magic and created a composite bow, much like his Mirkwood one, but instead, as soon as he drew on the string, an arrow appeared. Quickly, he notched it and shot it, spearing an Irimage in the eye, making it fall down dead. He notched another arrow and with a natural agility, shot it at another Irimage, felling it through the heart.

Shooting off another arrow, Legolas blinked as this one bounced off a pinkish shield had been invisible, and suddenly leapt out of the way as the Irimage he had been targeting turned its sights on him, a malicious grin spreading across its thin gaunt face, shooting what looked to be a fireball at where he was.

He disengaged the magic on his gun and stuck it back in his jacket as he created an energy spell. Leaping out of the way again, Legolas fired an energy spell at the Irimage, but that bounced off also and he frowned. If he couldn’t reach the Irimage at this distance than he would have to take it closer…a lot closer.

Avoiding two more blasts of energy coming from different Irimages, he ducked beneath another column of blue lightning Haldir was generating, then ran towards the Irimage who smiled and prepared another fireball. “Not this time,” Legolas called to the Mage and with a _snickt_ drew out his two milky white daggers he had and sliced the throat of the Irimage.

Spinning around, he stabbed the other blade into the chest of another Irimage that had been creeping towards him. Pulling it out swiftly, he gave his daggers a quick flick to get rid of the blood that was on them. Turning, he saw that Glorfindel was finishing up the last Irimage, decapitating him with a defensive triage spell he had created.

It was then that he also noticed the silence that reigned throughout the street. He sheathed his twin daggers and gave a quick nod to Haldir who looked satisfied. “How many you got?”

“Five. You?”

“Only four,” Legolas replied then suddenly stumbled as he felt something slam into him. It was as if a warm energy filled him, reviving him. He could feel a high amount of energy entering him and he realized that it was the transferring of power from those that he had killed. Closing his eyes briefly, he let the transfer rush through him. Though he was used to mostly one or two power transfers happening at the same time, the four that he had killed who were transferring their powers to him felt a bit overwhelmed.

When he opened them again, he saw that Haldir and Glorfindel were finishing up their transferring of powers, them receiving more kills than he did. He noticed that Glorfindel had a kind of pale look to his face, but otherwise didn’t comment on any of whatever discomfort he was probably feeling. Legolas knew that at times, the power transfer left something in you that felt very evil, he had that happen to him one too many times, but he had gotten used to it over time.

The sudden whirling sounds of the hover-copter’s blades made him look up to see Elladan in the pilot’s seat, maneuvering the craft to hover above them. Elrohir was grinning at them, giving them the ‘thumbs up’ sign and holding what looked to be a green ceramic jar with words written on one side of it, a cork covering it.

Legolas suddenly felt a lurch in his stomach as he noticed that he was enveloped in a pinkish bubble and floating in the air. He glanced at Glorfindel who was concentrating on bringing them inside of the aircraft, him already sitting in the open passenger compartment.

As soon as he and Haldir’s feet touched the floor of the compartment, Elladan pulled away from his hovering mode, so fast that he had to grab onto something in order not to fall. Haldir gave a noncommittal grunt as he grabbed onto a handlebar, all the while glaring at the back of Elladan’s head.

Legolas glanced down and saw that a few red glowing eyes of Irimages and of the green glowing eyes of Technomages were peering from their hiding place. Elladan was right to pull out fast…with that many number of eyes, it would have been a form of suicide to stay any longer. He glanced up towards the cockpit, just in time to catch the green corked jar that Elrohir had been holding.

Looking at it, he suppressed a groan of exasperation as he read what the contents of the jar held [ _Ashes of Former Hijackers_ ]. Daring himself to open it, he sighed as he saw that indeed there were ashes inside of the jar. He wondered how the twins had such a weird sense of humor in such a dismal place. But then again, as he mused to himself, if no one had a sense of humor than they would be as dark as the Black City itself.


	6. Golden City

The trip to the Golden City was but uneventful, as they skimmed over cloudy skies, the constant stream of storms that overcastted the Black City gave way to clear starry skies. Ever since the invention of modern flying vehicles, Legolas had never gotten too many chances to go up past the low cloud line and to see the stars from such a vantage point, that every time he went up in a hover-copter or a jet, it took his breath away to see so many glittering stars, all sparkling against the black night sky.

“Attention all passengers, we are arriving into the outskirts of the Golden City. Please return to your seats if you haven’t stopped staring out of the window and fasten your seatbelts,” Elladan’s voice said loudly over the hum of the hover-copter’s engines.

Legolas glared at the back of the Elf’s head before turning once more to look out of the window, his hand holding onto one of the handlebars on the passenger area of the copter, and saw that they were passing through some low level clouds before the magnificent glow of the former city of Boston came into view.

Bright lights were what gave the city its new name, the Golden City. It was like a crown that glittered in the light, tiny pinpricks representing jewels and the many facets of them. He looked down at the city in wonderment…as for over five hundred years, give or take a few centuries, he hadn’t been to the Golden City, and now…the change was very impressionable.

“It’s not all that…evil lurks there underneath all its pristine,” Haldir said and Legolas nodded absently, not really taking in the words as the lights of the city kept his eyes fixed to the cityscape.

“We resent that comment, Haldir! Dad won’t like what you said, just you wait when we tell him!” Elrohir called from the front cockpit seat.

“Well, it’s the truth,” Haldir shrugged, “I don’t really care if you listen to it or not.”

The touchdown at a landing pad was connected to a very tall skyscraper, almost at least seventy stories high. As Elladan brought the copter to a slight hover, Legolas glanced at the twins curiously, wondering if they were going to get off.

“Got things to do, fishes to buy!” Elrohir grinned at him and Legolas rolled his eyes and hopped off behind Haldir and Glorfindel.

With a salute, the twins rose from their hover position and flew off in another direction, off to do their own business, whatever it was. Turning to follow the two Elves inside, Legolas risked a peek over the edge of the landing platform and saw that though the lights were bright, there were patches of darkness that seemed to blot out the light. Perhaps Haldir was right to say that some sort of evil existed in what seemed like a paradise.

“Security is tight, so we’ll have to go through a checkpoint,” Glorfindel explained as they approached it, in which Elvish guards were armed to the teeth in an assortment of weaponry, some Legolas hadn’t seen since the Third Age, some modern high tech weapons, others what looked to be the work of Technomage, a fusion of weapons with magic to create something totally different. But what set these Elves apart from the others in the far distance who were walking to and fro, exiting and entering elevators, stairways or just walking down the hall, was that they were all dressed in black.

The first thing that entered Legolas’ mind was from a very old movie called _The Matrix_ in which a few computer agents wore black suits and shades. Very creepy yet they looked like no nonsense Elves. He saw Glorfindel hand over his weapons before stepping through a metal detector, but it wasn’t a metal detector as a blue light raked over the Elf’s whole body before a green light appeared, signaling that he could pass.

Haldir stepped into the detector next, after pulling out what looked to be a much bigger pile of weapons than what Glorfindel carried. The blue light raked over him before also signaling that he could go through. He collected his weapons and waited patiently as Legolas approached, staring at the detector.

“It’s not going to hurt,” Haldir offered from the other side, “it might tickle though…”

Legolas frowned at his best friend, “The last time someone said that to me it hurt… _a lot_.” Sighing, he took the gun out of his trench coat pocket and handed it over to one of the black suited Elves, then pulled his two daggers out of the folds of his clothing. Stepping into the detector, he waited…

It was as if someone suddenly jammed a knife in the back of his spine. No sound came out of his mouth, but Legolas felt his eyes bug slightly as the pain raked across his back before it suddenly disappeared as it had appeared.

“You’re clear to go through,” one of the Elf guards said, tapping him on the shoulder and handing him his three weapons.

Legolas shook his head slightly to clear the remnant phantom pain that was raking across his back, or was it still doing that, and stepped forward, taking the weapons out of the guard’s hands and glared at Haldir who had the absurdity to wear a smirk on his face.

“That was not funny. And it did hurt, _a lot_ ,” he glared at the Elf, shaking one of his daggers in front of his face.

“And to answer your unspoken question…that was to detect if you’re an Irimage in disguise or not. Quite effective as in the White City, Lady Galadriel has caught quite a few assassins bent on killing her and Lord Celeborn,” Haldir explained as they walked on, Glorfindel leading them through massive open aired hallways that spoke of wealth and money…elevators rising up and down, the clear glass in them almost glaring at the chandeliers that lined the roof and ceilings of the place.

Though Legolas had been in the building once or twice since it was built in the early twenty-first century, he had never seen so much gold, silver, or glass in such a massive building. Elrond had even made it look a bit like Rivendell with golden or silver trees and invisible winds blowing some leaves this way and that.

“And I suppose that she has those black suited Elves too, watching her place?” he asked, peering down to what looked to be fountains that burst forth water once every few seconds.

“Those black suited Elves that you so happen to be talking about,” Glorfindel turned his head slightly, “are an addition by Elrond himself. And one happens to be my son, thank you very much.”

“Sorry,” Legolas hastily apologized to the Eldar, but curiosity made him speak one more question, “did he, by any chance, watch an old movie called _The Matrix_ to get the idea of black suited guards?”

“I think it be best for the twins to answer that question,” Glorfindel replied evasively before Legolas noticed another Elf running towards them.

They stopped as the Elf approached, a bit winded and he approached Haldir, pulling him to the side. Legolas heard snatches of their conversation, but Haldir nodded eventually then looked at the two of them.

“There is a communiqué from the Lady that I must take at the moment. Glorfindel, I will be touching base with you after your meeting,” he said and the blonde haired Eldar nodded. Turning, Haldir followed the messenger down another hallway, leaving the two of them alone.

“Come on,” Glorfindel beckoned and Legolas followed him, wondering what was the message that Haldir had to take was all about. His best friend seemed a bit agitated, but he shoved his thoughts into the back of his mind as Glorfindel knocked on a high cedar door, trimmed with golden leaves and its knobs were designed like small branches with little leaflets sticking out of them.

There was no answer, but the Eldar opened the door and stepped through. Legolas followed and his eyes widened as he stepped into what looked to be an exact replica of the opened aired Council Hall, or what was actually the porch to Elrond’s House, of Rivendell.

A breeze blew by; blowing some of his hair up and a few birds flew so low that Legolas longed to touch them but wondered if they were computer generated or not. This setting obviously had to be a massive CGed area, but everything looked so real…even the trees and brooks that ran through the area. High backed chairs were set up in a semi-circle, with three chairs facing the inner circle. The smell of constant autumn mixed with a hint of spring filled the air and Legolas didn’t know whether to believe if it was real or not…

“You would consider closing your mouth before flies get into it, would you? I do have real flies in here,” a familiar melodic drawl spoke behind him and Legolas turned sharply then snap shut his mouth that he didn’t know had fallen open with a click.

“Is it…” he started before Elrond Perendil smiled and stepped down from what looked to be stairs that led to somewhere else.

“Real? Yes and no,” he pressed a button cleverly hidden in a tree by the stairs he had come from and the images dissolved into what looked to be a square room that shrieked money and riches. A few of the trees that had not disappeared with the images remained and Legolas noticed that a few wildlife creatures inhabited them. He also noticed that a stream that had been part of the background was indeed still flowing water through the side of the room.

“Lorien Incorporated created all this technology if you must know,” Elrond gestured for him to sit and Legolas noticed that Glorfindel had gone to the side and was returning with what looked to be a tray of a teapot and three cups along with a small dish of bite size _lembas_ bread.

Walking over to the long table that stretched from one end of the room to the other, Legolas sat down in one of the leather chairs and Glorfindel sat across from him, pouring himself some tea; he noted that the tea was directly extracted from dry tea leaves, not the packets of tea that so many of the humans drank from.

“Tea?” Glorfindel offered and Legolas shook his head, declining it.

“No thanks,” he said.

Elrond came over and sat down, pouring himself some tea and taking a small _lembas_ bread, “My wife made them. Though Galadriel and her Elves only know the secret to these lembas bread, she’s apparently taught Celebrian too. But enough of small talk, I had you brought here for a purpose.”

Legolas leaned back a little, inwardly suppressing a wince, as his back still was sore from the shock that he had received during his passing through the detectors. He focused his attention on Elrond instead of on the decorations in the room, but even that was a bit hard since the sound of birds still rang out and the invisible wind blew by.

“Thirty years ago, I contacted you telling you of your mission to keep an eye on the Reincarnated Fellowship and key members,” Elrond steeple his fingers together, “but you might have been aware that some of the Fellowship have been Reincarnated before, at various time intervals. During the time that some were Reincarnated, major conflicts have occurred; for example, when the Reincarnation of Faramir and Eomer appeared, World War II begun just when they were entering their teenage years and were drafted into the war. They fought in the European theater at one of the major engagements, the Battle of the Bulge.

“During the Reincarnation of Aragorn, Eowyn, and Boromir, the Nano Wars were occurring. All fought in the infamous Battle for Therin’s Hill, but all also perished. In each of the battles or every time a member of the Fellowship was reborn, evil has always reared its head,” Elrond looked at him gravely and Legolas wondered if there was some kind of connection that the Elf Lord was talking about.

“Only recently have all members of the Fellowship and key persons have appeared in such a fashion,” Glorfindel spoke quietly and Legolas looked at the two of them…the connection didn’t make sense…

“Have you been following the police reports?” Elrond suddenly asked and he blinked.

“Um…yes. I’ve been tailing the Reincarnations of Boromir, Aragorn, Eowyn, Eomer, and Faramir. I’ve also been reading their reports,” he didn’t dare tell Elrond that he had also been tailing the Reincarnation of Arwen for the fear of the Elven Lord exploding on him. He had heard that Elrond had let Aragorn marry Arwen back after the second War of the Ring, but wasn’t too happy that his only daughter was to become a mortal.

“What have you noticed,” Elrond prodded him.

“Regular Mage activities, though a few of them seemed nearly impossible for the NYPD to handle, that’s when I interfered to save their skins, but there has also been a growing number of Irimages…” Legolas trailed off as the two pieces suddenly clicked. “You’re not serious, are you? If with this-“

“Precisely,” Elrond said, “with the all members of the Fellowship Reincarnated and key persons too, this evil has grown into something that we have not seen since the Second Age or in the Third Age.”

“The rise of a Dark Lord?” Legolas hazard a guess.

“No,” a new voice spoke from the door, “the _return_ of _two_ Dark Lords. Sauron and Morgoth.”

Legolas spun around in his seat to see a very old, but familiar face. Gandalf the White had returned.


	7. Reprieve

When they arrived at the police station, at least everyone who wasn’t injured that had been taken away to the nearest hospital for treatment was already sopping wet and in foul moods. Alec Richard stomped into the general common area, where all the desks were situated and a few of their detectives were working. He saw Robert take the young boy named David into the kitchen, the boy a forlorn look on his face.

His spirit felt as if it was weighed down with the death of his partner and all he wanted to do at the moment was to sleep. Sleep everything away, sleep his job away, and sleep his life away. He collapsed into his chair, and buried his head into his hands. Hearing the familiar footsteps of Ben walking by, he didn’t even raise his head to acknowledge his captain and friend and promptly heard his office door slam close.

Letting his mind wander, he listened as the other officers came in, some talking to each other, others heading to the kitchen for perhaps a coffee or pastry or something to eat. But what was common was that there was a certain hushed silence among them.

“Hey,” a very familiar voice spoke in his ear and he felt someone sit next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder, “are you all right?”

“Hi Anna,” Alec barely got the words out and he knew that they were muffled as he turned his head slightly to see the profile of his girlfriend staring at him. Her long dark tresses framed her face, which was pale and accented the faint blue-green glow of her eyes. Of all the Vernomages and Technomages he had encountered, Anna Elanore was the only Mage he had seen with a mix of a blue-green glow in her eyes.

“Hi yourself, Alec, you look terrible,” she rubbed his shoulder for a second before reaching up and prying the wet jacket he still had on. Alec allowed her to take off his jacket, and he sighed. “Do you want to talk about it?” she asked.

“Seven officers lost…Tony included…Gwen Turner’s dead,” he said woodenly, staring at his holo projector screen, no words written on it.

He heard the intake gasp of surprise and Anna’s hand that had been resting on his shoulder suddenly lifted away. He turned to find tears rolling down her face and knew that those tears were for a fellow Vernomage. Of all the NYPD, she was the only Vernomage left in their service…

“Tony…Gwen…not Gwen,” Anna whispered and Alec reached out to pull her into an embrace. He knew that she was taking this a lot harder than he was, but that was due to the fact that Gwen was almost like a mother to Anna.

Gwen had taken Anna in as a young girl, after her mother died in a horrible accident, and discovered that Anna was a Vernomage. Being a Vernomage herself, Gwen took it upon her to teach the skills of being a Vernomage to Anna and to become one of the NYPD’s finest detectives.

He stroked her back, whispering nameless words that sounded so familiar yet foreign at the same time, trying to comfort her. Staring around the common area, he noticed that many others were just resting in their chairs, some praying others reading the Bible, the Holy Book, or whatever religious book they had. He saw another familiar figure walking towards them and nodded a silent greeting to Anna’s partner, Elizabeth Ruthersfield.

“I found out what happened,” she mouthed to him, tucking a strand of her long straight blonde hair behind her head. Though another detective too and being Anna’s partner, Liz, as she was known to others, had already been engaged to Ben’s brother, Franklin. However, unlike Anna, Liz was a normal human being, no trace of Mage magic within her. “I’m sorry,” she whispered as Anna looked up, wiping tears from her face.

“It…would have happened eventually,” Anna replied softly and Alec looked at her, his arms tightening around her form as he held her protectively.

Liz nodded then turned to Alec, “How are you faring?”

Alec gave a small smile. Trust Liz to brighten even the darkest things up. That’s why he liked her as a good friend; she was able to lift anyone’s spirits up with just a word or a smile. Though he still felt devastated at the loss of his partner Tony, something within him told him not to dwell on it too much. “I’m okay, for now,” he replied.

He was about to say more when the door to Ben’s office suddenly opened and the man himself stalked through, shutting his door with a loud bang. Almost everyone in the common area, save a few others who were too tired to care, jumped at the sudden noise and Alec watched as his captain and friend stalked over to them then plopped himself unceremoniously onto an empty chair.

He noticed that Ben looked haggard, and was propping his head in his hand, an angry expression on his face. He was muttering soundless words, but from reading his lips, Alec could make out that a few swears were thrown into the mix of his soundless mumbling.

“Hey, Ben, you okay?” Liz tapped his shoulder.

Alec knew that Liz had a sisterly affection for Ben since she was soon-to-be sister-in-law, not to mention that they whole family of the Ruthersfields and Greens grew up together.

A grumble came from Ben and he murmured something unidentifiable, but to Alec’s ears it sounded something like a slur against his father, the commissioner.

“That bad huh?” Liz had no problem translating whatever it was that Ben said.

“Yeah,” was the muffled reply when Ben suddenly got up, “I’ll see all of you tomorrow. No need to start your reports yet, give yourself a small break. Gonna go get some coffee before I start those death…” Alec watched as his goateed face closed up and he stalked away, unable to finish whatever he was saying.

Liz suddenly got up from where she was sitting and rushed after Ben, hoping to perhaps offer some comfort, or maybe someone to talk to. As she rushed off, Robert came in, the little boy David, who was drinking from a cup of what looked to be the hot chocolate packets that they had. Robert himself was draining the last of his coffee, an expression of disgust written all over as he threw the cup away into one of the desks’ trash bins.

“Uncle Alec!” David called out, placing his cup on one of the empty desks, and suddenly rushing over to him. The young boy stopped in front of him and regarded him with a wide smile and Alec couldn’t help but giving him a smile in return. David then focused his attention to Anna who was still in his arms. “Who is she?” he asked in a simple voice.

“Anna?” Alec gently lifted a few strands of her dark brown hair up and she looked up at him then noticed David and sat up, giving the boy a small tired smile. “Anna, I’d like you to meet David.”

“Hello David,” Anna extended her hand out and gently shook the boy’s hand, “I’m Anna Elanore.”

“Are you his _girlfriend_?” David dragged out the word girlfriend as most children had a tendency to do.

“Yes, I am,” Anna replied, laughing lightly at David’s child-like expression of disgust, “such a young child…”

“I’m not young!” David replied indignantly, “I’m ten years old! And my sister is eight!”

The mention of his sister suddenly jolted Alec back into awareness. He suddenly realized that the boy didn’t know that his sister had died during the attempted rescue…the boy had to know sometime, but at the moment…was it right to tell such a young child?

“Oh, and where is your sister?” Anna did not get his reaction.

“Uh…yeah, Uncle Robert, where’s me sis?” David asked, turning to the black police officer with a curious expression on his face.

“Um…you have to listen to me, son,” Robert started before Alec knew that he should be the one to tell David, after all, he was the one that saved the child and had not been able to save his sister.

Moving out of his seat, he turned the child and knelt down to his eye level and took the child’s small hands into his own. They were very cold and seemed very brittle, but he took that into account that the boy was very scrawny, an after effect of living on the streets for so long. “David,” he began, “your sister…is dead.” He watched the boy’s eyes for any sign, anything at all, but what was staring back at him was a deep pool of blue and black pupil. “I…I couldn’t save her…like I’d saved you, David… Do you understand?”

“She’s dead,” David whispered and Alec nodded sadly.

“Yes.”

“Can…can I see…her body?” the question came out so child-like and innocent that Alec almost felt his heart break in two at the simplistic reality of it. He glanced up at Robert who nodded then looked back down at David.

“You can,” he replied to the child’s question, and looked again into the pools of blue and black pupils for any sign of trauma…he couldn’t see any…

A sudden fiery eye flicked into his vision before it disappeared…

Alec blinked a bit then suddenly let go of the boy’s hand. He stepped back and sat back down in his char just as Robert took the boy’s hands and led him away. Rubbing his eyes, he wondered what was that all about and jumped slightly as Anna placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Alec, what’s wrong?” she asked, concerned.

“Nothing…nothing,” Alec rubbed his face one more time before staring at the retreating forms of Robert and David, “there’s something wrong…”

“You feel it too?” Anna asked. Ever since he had met Anna they had shared a rapport, able to feel each other’s emotions, and perhaps her Vernomage powers had rubbed off onto him as he sometimes could distinct whether something was wrong or not…

“Yeah…but it’s not just that…when Gwen,” he swallowed, “died…in my arms…she said one word to me, or maybe to someone else, or even a prayer…but even before that, words echoed in my head, words that sounded like they came from Ben. But anyways, back to the point, when she died…Gwen said ‘elessar’ or ‘Elessar’…something like that.” He turned to face her, “Is that like a code among you detectives or Vernomages?”

“No,” Anna shook her head, “I’ve never heard of Elessar, but even that sounds familiar. I think it’s a name of sorts…” she furrowed her brow then suddenly her eyes widened, “oh yes! Now I remember! It’s the name of one of the characters in Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings!”

“A what and a what?” Alec was lost.

“Did you read J.R.R. Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings or saw Peter Jackson’s movie version of it? You know…pre Nano War movies! Some are just plain pathetic, but this one was a real good one from that age!”

“Don’t have time to read or watch movies…” Alec mumbled, “you think Gwen, maybe was quoting something from that book?”

“Could be,” Anna sobered once more, “she was a fanatic of those stories…she loved the character of Aragorn, who had different names, including Elessar. I meant, not _loved_ , but she loved the character like a mother to a child.”

“But one thing…you’re right…something about David makes me uneasy…” her expression was thoughtful, but Alec could read a wariness in them, something he had never seen before.


	8. Mission

“ _No,” a new voice spoke from the door, “the_ _ **return**_ _of_ _ **two**_ _Dark Lords. Sauron and Morgoth.”_

_Legolas spun around in his seat to see a very old, but familiar face. Gandalf the White had returned._

* * *

Gandalf had not aged a bit since Legolas had last met him after his journey to the Undying Lands with Gimli. In fact, he didn’t looked as if he had aged at all… But nonetheless, he rose out of his seat and crossed to the other side of the table and embraced his very old friend.

The wizard had disappeared a few hundred years after he had arrived from the Grey Havens, and this was the first time he had seen Gandalf since then. He had begun to wonder if Gandalf was off serving his masters, the Valar, or did he just fade away, nothing more than a spirit of the Maia he was.

“It’s been too long Gandalf,” he said, leading the wizard to an empty seat next to Glorfindel before returning to his own.

“And so it has Legolas Thranduillion,” Gandalf replied, evermore so the wiser in his face and voice, “I return at the turn of the tide.”

The familiar words brought a smile to Legolas’ face, but he quelled as soon as Gandalf’s expression turned grim. Though he was glad to see the wizard in good heath, he couldn’t stop but wonder what did Gandalf mean at the ‘turn of the tide’…a tide for the forces of good or for evil?

“The tide has not turned just this moment, but it soon will,” Gandalf answered his unspoken question with a twinkle in his eye then turned to Elrond who nodded a greeting, “Sauron, though his spirit was destroyed was brought back through use of cunning and bargaining. The one to do this is Morgoth…or Melkor as the Valar still know him as. Melkor the Fallen, Melkor the Dark Lord.”

“From what Gandalf has told me, Morgoth took the remnants of Sauron’s spirit, or whatever was left of it, and breathed him to life. He has taken form, but in what form we do not know at the moment,” Elrond said gravely then brought up a holoprojector screen showing the detailed layout map of the Black City. “He has stationed himself in the Black City, but until roughly thirty years ago, he has not stirred in any way except to turn New York City into what is it now, a corrupt, evil filled city.”

“Then what do you want me to do?” Legolas asked, as he knew that there was some purpose for him being here.

“Do you know how various humans remember their past lives? Their Reincarnations?” Elrond asked, shutting the projector down.

“A little,” Legolas wasn’t really keen on people claiming that they were Reincarnations of famous people or whatever, but he had an open mind to everything, especially in light of what Elrond had said earlier about some members of the Fellowship being Reincarnated when major wars or evil was stirring.

“Through dreams, humans remember who they once were or what past events led up to how they came to be. Though most humans cannot sense or remember these dreams as they are quickly forgotten or they have no gift of interpreting what they dream, it is the select few that can,” the Elven Lord explained, “this is because of the Valar Lorien, the Master of Dreams. He has enabled a few humans to remember their Reincarnations.

“Tonight he will awaken the Fellowship and those key members once more. You are to help them escape to the Golden City as Sauron some how knows of our plans. We must accelerate things,” Elrond said gravely.

“Haldir will accompany you as I have business to attend to in the Silver City, Los Angeles,” Glorfindel explained as he stood up along with Elrond and Gandalf, “you are to call the twins if you have successfully rounded the members of the Fellowship, they will pick you up to take all of you to the Golden City.”

Legolas stood along with them. He didn’t really see an option out of this, but then again, why did he have a sudden fear of doubt in him. He mentally shook his head; he was an Elf, an assassin, and a member of the Fellowship. With a start he realized that the doubt in him was brought on by hesitancy…and fear…something inside of him was afraid. Afraid of what he did not know, but he could probably put good money was that he was afraid for the Fellowship. After all, they were only humans and he was an immortal Elf. Humans were so easy to kill…

So he asked the next logical question, and in doing so accepted the mission he had started thirty years ago, “What about the hobbits? They’re located at Columbia University, which is uptown.”

“Do not trouble yourself, Legolas,” Gandalf gave the ghost of a smile, “I will get them to safety.”

“Then we are all set,” Elrond clasped his hands together, “Elladan and Elrohir will drop you and Haldir off.” As Gandalf left the room, followed by Glorfindel the Eldar turned around.

“Do you want to leave a message with your father?” he asked suddenly and Legolas blinked.

“Excuse me?” he wondered if he heard the sudden question correctly.

“I will be talking to Thranduil, and I was wondering if you would like me to pass on a message to him,” Glorfindel stated.

“Um…” Legolas was a bit at loss for words, as he hadn’t spoken to his father for the last four thousand years or so, their last words ending in a terrible heated argument. “I guess you can just say a ‘hi’ or something…”

Glorfindel just stared at him for a second before shrugging and walking out of the room. Legolas went to follow, heading towards the landing pad when Elrond stopped him.

“Legolas,” the Elven Lord said and he turned back around. He noticed that Elrond seemed unusually grave, more so than he had been during the briefing, “I needn’t tell you what’s at risk. Sauron and even Morgoth will be targeting the Elves…they will be tracking you and Haldir, but mostly you.”

Legolas inclined his head. He knew that with his vast amount of experience from living in the Black City and almost everywhere else, he was one of the few Elves who posed a huge threat in the long run to those who did evil. Though he was perversely flattered by the attention he was getting from the evil, it still disgusted him at times. But overall, he knew what was at stake, and for the most part, the Elven race was the first thing Sauron or Morgoth would want to take out as they were the everlasting thorns that always stuck on evil’s side.

“I know,” he replied, “but I will bring the Fellowship back.” He turned and was almost out of the room when he turned around and gave an ironic grin at Elrond who looked at him quizzically. “You know…I had always thought that the Undying Lands were forever protected by the Valar, after all they were the ones who wanted us there. Now look at what the Undying Lands has become…”

With that he spun around and walked out, headed to the landing pad to meet with Haldir and the twins.

* * *

Two beings of light sat in front of a table, both staring down at what seemed like a holographic chessboard, but it was formulated differently. Various pieces moved everywhere, each marked by either a green dot or a red dot. One of the figures of light looked up at the other and smirked.

“I think I’m winning,” Eru, the Creator, said in a soft singsong voice, though that soft voice was as loud as having cymbals crashed in your ear.

“Not if I can help it, you nimwit,” Aru, its counterpart replied, “it’s only begun my dear friend.” Aru smiled malevolently and peered down into the depths of clouds, layers of sky and into the heart of the Black City where its spire black angular buildings rose out like thorns on bushes, spikes, glistening in the dull moonlight as night had settled there.

In the midst of it, a pair of blood red eyes, eyes that were like fire, snapped open and an unearthly voice whispered forbidden words.

_Ash nazg durbatuluk, ash nazg gimbatul, ash nazg thrakatuluk_

_agh burzum-ishi krimpatul!_

But it wasn’t the One Ring that had awakened; it was the Shadow that had remained that awakened…awakened once more to set his evil deeds onto the world of pawns.

Sauron had heard his master’s call and he was ready.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if these chapters seem so short. It’s actually what I have in my outline…don’t worry; hopefully the next chapter will be quite long. A reminder to those again, this isn’t a rip or copy of The Nightrunners’ “Brothers in Arms” fic, this fic is of my own ideas!


	9. Dreaming

To the eyes of one, there was no sign of the two people in the bed that they were dreaming. Dreaming of their former lives, dreaming as they had never dreamed before. No, this was a vivid dream, a dream so surreal that it was real. It was the work of Lorien, the Vala of Dreams, Master of all dreams.

For Alec, who had been sleeping peacefully, one of his arms draped across the nightgown covered back of Anna, his dreams started just as peacefully…

“ _That is Weathertop,” said Strider. “The Old Road, which we have left far away on our right, runs to the south of it and passes not far from its foot. We might reach it by noon tomorrow, if we go straight towards it. I suppose we had better do so.”_

### Flash…

“ _Frodo has been touched by the weapons of the Enemy,” said Strider, “and there is some poison or evil at work that is beyond my skill to drive out. But do not give up hope, Sam!”_

### Flash…

“ _Why do you fear the past? You are Isildur’s heir, not Isildur himself. You are not bound to his fate…”_

_Aragorn looked stricken as he stared at his love with pleading eyes, “The same blood flows in my veins; the same weakness!”_

“ _Your time will come. You will face the same evil and you will defeat it…”_

### Flash…

“ _I choose, a mortal life…”_

“ _You cannot give me this!”_

“ _It is mine to give to whom I will…like my heart.”_

Alec turned over once in his bed, a soft murmur of nameless words coming from his mouth as the dream continued on…

“ _It is over. The world of men will fall and all will come to darkness, and my city to ruin…” Boromir gasped as he laid there dying with three arrows embedded in him._

“ _I do not know what strength is in my blood, but I swear to you. I will not let the White City fall. Nor our people fail!”_

“ _Our people…our people…” Boromir gave a ghost of a smile until pain coat his eyes once more. He was going fast, Aragorn knew it as he handed him his sword once more…for him to die like a warrior who fought bravely. “I would have followed you my brother…my Captain…my King.”_

_With those last words, Boromir, son of Denethor, a son of Gondor died._

“ _Be at peace, son of Gondor.”_

### Flash…

“ _Farmers, farriers, stable boys,” Aragorn shook his head as he dropped a useless unsharpened sword and made his way to where Legolas was standing, watching all the men and boys walk by, some with clueless eyes. “These are no soldiers.”_

“ _Most have seen too many winters,” Gimli sighed, a bit troubled._

“ _Or too few,” Legolas’ voice was full of contempt and a touch of sorrow, “They’re frightened. I can see it in their eyes.” Aragorn stared at the Elf incredulously as silence reigned in the armory. “_ _ **Boe a hyn: neled herain dan caer menig**_ _(And they should be. 300 against 10,000).”_

“ _ **Si beriathar hyn ammaeg na ned Edoras**_ _(They have a better chance defending themselves here than in Edoras),” he reasoned, trying to calm the Mirkwood Elf down._

“ _ **Aragorn, nedin dagor hen u-‘erir otheri. Natha daged dhaer.**_ _(They cannot win this fight. They are all going to die!)”_

“ _Then I shall die as one of them!” he shouted back, startling Legolas before he brushed past him in anger._

### Flash…

_Then the King welcomed his guests, and they alighted; and Elrond surrendered the scepter, and laid the hand of his daughter in the hand of the King, and together they went up into the High City, and all the stars flowered in the sky. And Aragorn the King Elessar wedded Arwen Undomiel in the City of the Kings upon the day of Midsummer’s, and the tale of their long waiting and labours was come to fulfillment._

Alec woke with a start, his breathing coming in short gasps as he stared at the white ceiling of his apartment. For a moment, he saw that he was smiling at the beautiful face of Anna, her dressed in a brilliant white gown, her grey eyes sparkling and her porcelain skin kissing all the rays of the sun. She was smiling at him…

Shaking his head violently to clear the image away, he turned to see Anna’s peaceful sleeping face in an upturned smile. Her chest rose evenly, and for a moment, Alec could see her in that white dress, that white wedding dress…

Wait…he had been there, watching her in that wedding dress. He had been married to her…but…who was he again? Ara-something…no, Aragorn son of Arathorn, or Elessar Telcontar the King of the Reunited Lands, the King of the Dunedain and of Gondor. He was Aragorn.

No! He was Alec. Alexander Estel Richard, the son of a widow, one of the finest NYPD officers. He wasn’t Aragorn…was he? Alec blinked once more as the realization settled in…he was Aragorn…only he was Alec too.

Turning to his side, he watched Anna for a few seconds before tentatively speaking the first words that sounded so familiar yet so foreign in his mouth. “Arwen?”

Anna’s grey eyes opened slowly and they bore into his. The flash of recognition in them was complete as he began to see the sparkle of love that once bonded his beloved to him so many Ages ago.

“You’ve returned, Elessar…” Anna smiled faintly and sleepily then closed her eyes once more and went back to sleep.

* * *

In the mostly quiet office of the police station, Benjamin Greens was asleep over the holopad and papers of death notices that he was filing for the deaths of the seven officers and one Vernomage during their raid that night. He had worked himself to exhaustion and he didn’t want to inform anyone else that they had died.

His previous conversation with his father, David Greens, the commissioner had turned into a disaster fest. Commissioner Greens had accused him for being so foolhardy and said that his brother Franklin would have done better than he had.

But his sleep was not pleasant all…his sleep was full of nightmares…

_The pain of the first arrow was so surprising that Boromir gasped a bit and fell to his knees. No, he couldn’t fall to his knees he had to get up and fight! Fight! Struggling up, he brushed away the first sword of an Uruk and then hacked at another. Slicing to fight he turned slightly…only to be thrown back as another arrow embedded itself within him._

_The pain was so great now and he felt himself falling to the soft earth once more. No…stand up, he willed his wooden feet to stand, just in time to parry a sword from one of the Uruk who was trying to take a pot shot at him. He must save the hobbits…he must…he couldn’t let Frodo down…he couldn’t give into that evil temptation again._

_He knew what he had lived his life for…he had gone through the evils and back into the light again and he willed himself not to fail._

_By this time the pain was so great that he didn’t even feel the third arrow embed itself within him. He only glanced down in hazy wonderment as he saw that blood flowed from the third arrow. He watched with lazy eyes as his knees buckled underneath him and he sank to the ground, too stunned and too full of pain to even realize that he was dying…_

_Everything was so white, so far away. The war cries of Pippin and Merry were so far away, but Boromir watched with slight disinterested eyes as the Uruks took them away. Were they important? Why was he here, he wondered as he glanced once more down at the wound._

_Booted feet with sharp spikes rolled into his vision and he looked up, blinking against the harsh sunlight. Ugly, was the word that came to his mind as he stared at the face of an Uruk. Was this the one who shot all those arrows in him?_

_Suddenly it was as if someone turned up the volume everywhere and he heard the fine tune of the birds chirping in the back ground, the rustle of leaves, the fading feet of the other Uruks running away…the scrape of the draw of a bow and an arrow loaded…_

_The bow and arrow pointed at his face by the Uruk who wore a malicious smile…he was going to die…he knew it…he was…_

_The sudden war cry startled Boromir as he watched as Aragorn flung himself on top of the Uruk, knocking the creature down away from him. Then all became white…_

Ben started and sat up quickly in his chair, knocking his head painfully against the back of his chair. Stars briefly danced in his vision; he could feel his heart beating at least a mile a minute…the pain…it was so real…

Scrubbing his face he felt day old stubbles and reached for his mug on the side of his table. Without bothering to glance at the contents of the mug he downed everything…and promptly spit the contents of the mug out. It was coffee…but it tasted like blood. The coppery metallic tinge of flavor was still haunting him, but as he glanced down at himself, he wasn’t bleeding…was he?

For the man who was Benjamin Greens…and the man who had been Boromir son of Denethor, the transition of Reincarnation wasn’t too pleasant at all.

* * *

Elizabeth Ruthersfield prided herself on keeping her cool, even in the face of eminent danger. She laughed in the face of danger, but she also welcomed it at times, as her brother Edward was so overprotective at times and also with her fiancé, Franklin Greens.

As she curled up in the blankets of her bed, in the apartment on the East Side that she shared with her future husband, Liz knew that her cool was about to be lost…for weird things had been happening…

_Out of the wreck rose the Black Rider, tall and threatening, towering above her. With a cry of hatred that stung the very ears like venom he let fall his mace. Her shield was shivered in many pieces, and her arm was broken; she stumbled to her knees. He bent over her like a cloud, and his eyes glittered; he raised his mace to kill._

_But suddenly he too stumbled forward with a cry of bitter pain, and his stroke went wide, driving into the ground. Merry’s sword had stabbed him from behind, shearing through the black mantle, and passing up beneath the hauberk had pierced the sinew behind his mighty knee._

“ _Eowyn! Eowyn!” cried Merry. Then tottering, struggling up, with her last strength she drove her sword between the crown and mantle, as the great shoulders bowed before her. The sword broke sparkling into many shards. The crown rolled away with a clang. Eowyn fell forward upon her fallen foe…_

Elizabeth Ruthersfield, woke up screaming bloody murder, startling Franklin who was had fallen asleep on the couch watching some late night program on the holo-vid. She kept staring at the image of a horrifying black mask…a mask without eyes, a mask and body with angular armor that was as dark as the night. She had killed it…hadn’t she?

Liz didn’t realize Frank was calling her name and shaking her shoulders until she reacted to her name.

“Eowyn!”

She started then looked around her room wildly. The black shadow was gone, and she was here, in her room, in her bed…she was safe… Her wild eyes found Franks and saw deep concern in them. “Faramir?” she whispered then shook her head… “No…Frank?”

If Franklin Greens noticed anything unusual he hid it behind a carefully controlled mask. “What happened Liz?” he asked gently and Liz suddenly felt weak all over.

She curled her knees to her chest and started to cry. “Oh…it was horrible…I saw myself in some world…I…think I died or something…” she tried to stop the tears from flowing from her face, but they couldn’t seem to stop.

Frank gently knelt down next to her and wrapped his arms around her, “It’s okay Liz…just cry…just cry.”

The shield-maiden of Rohan was born once again.

* * *

For both the Reincarnations of Eomer son of Eomund, Edward Ruthersfield, and Gimli son Gloin, George Griston, they kept a strict watch on their own patrols. For they were already reborn, and had been for the last thirty years or so of their lives.

On the back of a robotic horse designed for skirmish attacks, Edward Ruthersfield looked up into the starry night on the outskirts borders of Massachusetts and New York. In his heart he knew that the time was near…the timing was near for the forces of evil to rise once more. Heeling his horse he turned and trotted back to the rest of his men and women, a rebel company of former United States soldiers who dealt with rogue Mages. Turning the trot to a gallop, Edward knew that he had to hurry.

In the dusty moonlit halls of the once pristine Museum of Natural History, George Griston looked up from his current project, cataloging some new minerals he had found during his last recent trip to Egypt. He stared at the almost full moon, his eyes darkening. It was time…something inside of him told him. It was time for him to act.

Putting down the magnifying glass he held in his hand, he walked over to the door of his office and opened it. Ducking slightly beneath the archway of his door (being at least over six feet didn’t really help the fact that the doors were quite low), he headed to a particular painting and removed it.

Pressing a button underneath the painting, a panel slipped out and George grabbed the gun that was inside of it. Flicking off the safety and he loaded the gun and stuck it into his pocket. Closing the panel and setting the portrait back to where it had been, he walked back and returned to his work.

Tomorrow was to be an interesting day…

* * *

“They are so peaceful when sleeping yet so violent when awake,” a soft-spoken simple voice said, but the voice that belonged to the person wasn’t so simple at all.

“It is the ways of humans, the former race of Men, Lorien,” Gandalf said, leaning on his white staff, watching four humans sleep in their beds in the four-room dorm. Indeed they did look peaceful, and they were peaceful even if they were former hobbits. But they had all grown in this day and age as regular sized humans, not the short Halflings they were back in the Third Age.

Gandalf turned his head to look at the Vala he served, seeing Lorien’s bright pale green eyes staring at them, unblinking and unmoving. Though he was standing next to a floating being that radiated a bright light, bright enough to shine as a beacon on the foggiest of nights, he knew that his master had a human form too, much like he had. He suspected that if Lorien were to walk on the Earth as a human, than he would probably be dressed in white, with silvery-white hair and sharp green eyes.

“The others have awakened, Olorin, and tomorrow they will gather together,” Lorien said, “but the hobbits though, they have much work yet to be done.”

“Then will you continue this process through tomorrow?” Gandalf asked as one of the former hobbits, Merry or Matthew as he was known at this moment in time, rolled over in his sleep, murmuring something.

“No…I will do what I can for tonight, but I will speak with them tomorrow to finish the process,” Lorien said in a calm voice then turned his pale green eyes on him, “you will tell your students that I come to speak.”

“As you wish,” Gandalf gave a small bow with his head then returned his gaze onto the sleeping humans. His eyes paid close attention to the human named Fredrick, or Frodo as he was Reincarnated. He didn’t know what part Fred had to play, but he knew that as a former Ringbearer, Fred would be vital to the outcome of this war.

“And so it begins,” Lorien whispered into the quiet night.

* * *

The ride back from the Golden City to the Black City was very quiet, as Legolas was immersed in his own thoughts and Haldir was just staring blankly across the skyline that they were crossing. Even the twins, hyper from before, were sober now, both wearing serious expressions, expressions that he had never seen since the Battle of Therin’s Hill in the Nano Wars.

“We’re going to drop the two of you off where we landed before,” Elrohir called back to him and Legolas nodded, pulling himself out of his thoughts. He had been thinking of what Gandalf had said and what about the dreams the Reincarnations were to have. He hoped that Lorien was successful, but even though he didn’t really doubt the powers of the Vala, he was still reluctant to believe anything that resembled a god of sorts.

Standing up, he grabbed hold of the handle bar inside of the hover-copter just as a fierce wind knocked the copter around slightly. But with Elladan at the controls, the copter righted itself and hovered a few feet off the ground. Legolas nodded to Haldir and his friend stepped out first. Turning around he waved a quick goodbye to the twins who saluted and Elrohir grinned.

Turning back around he jumped out of the copter and landed lightly on his feet. The wind the blades of the copter blew up, swirled his hair around, but as the copter rose into the air once more and flew back towards the Golden City, the wind died down leaving the silence of the city that was only echoed by a few distant crashes, signs that Mages or the summons of Mages were still prowling around.

“Come on, we’ll head back to my place to stock up before we pick the Fellowship up tomorrow morning at the police station,” Legolas gestured to Haldir who nodded and the two of them set off, both wary of any type of attack that was to come their way.

But in the midst of their watchfulness, they did not notice a pair of blood red eyes staring at them from the shadows…”It isssss…time,” the owner of the red eyes whispered.

* * *

High above in his lair that was the former Empire State Building, now the rebuilt tower of Barad-dur, Sauron closed his fiery eyes and sent one thought to his slaves. _Kill…_

For a young boy staying in an apartment on near the East Side, he heard the command and his smiled cruelly. His small hands were already stained with the blood of his most recent kill, the fresh entrails still dripping down his fingers, but he stared out into the night of New York City and opened his mouth…unhinging his jaw to the point where his mouth was as large as he could swallow his own head…

David, the young boy Alec saved, _screamed_ …

The _shriek_ of the Witch-King.


	10. Reincarnated

Overcast skies greeted Alec as he walked into the police station, holding Anna’s hand. Though he had a very faint memory of what happened last night, he knew that his love for Anna had been reaffirmed…even though the concept of him being a character that was apparently true from J.R.R. Tolkien’s novels was still a bit absurd. A part of him, the rational part of a police officer, told him that he was too stressed and had been having hallucinations, but another part told him that it was true…he was or formerly was Aragorn son of Arathorn, Elessar Telcontar the king of all the Reunited Lands of Middle Earth.

And Anna was Arwen Undomiel, his wife, or past wife…or was it future wife?

Shaking his head, Alec pushed the door open to the common room to find it bustling once again with morning activities. The somberness from last night had disappeared if not completely as it tended to be a daily or weekly thing that they loose police officers in Mage attacks. Most people tended to grieve for a short time before moving on with their lives. It was how New York worked these days, as if grieving too long got you nowhere and getting nowhere meant getting dead.

Letting go of Anna’s hand he sat down in front of his desk and started up his computer, and logged onto the recent criminal files that were the latest as patrol cars and copters flew around almost minute-to-minute, scouting the whole metropolitan area. Already the information at least ten minutes old was on the bottom of a very long list and new information was pouring in from the various patrol cars.

A shuffle of a chair told him that Anna had settled next to him, and he could almost see the imperceptible customary frown on her face whenever she was looking through information. He himself was staring at the information too…Mage attacks…more Mage attacks…a double suicide murder attempt in the Queens area…nothing new there…

As he stared at the information, Alec made a mental note to check with Ben to tell him that the increase of Mage attacks, whether Techno or Iri, had been increasing steadily over the last few years, spiking a few times in this past year. It was as if some kind of collective grouping of evil was happening and it was making their lives and jobs a lot tougher as the days wore on.

Sighing he leaned back and rolled his shoulders, feeling his bones pop in and out as he tried to unknot a muscle that somehow got cramped up during his sleep last night. “They’re all the same…Mage attacks and more Mage attacks. Throw in a few murders and we have a salad on our hands,” he glanced at Anna who raised her eyebrows at his attempted joke.

“If it wasn’t disgusting, I’d laugh,” she replied deadpan then looked up beyond him and Alec turned to see Robert walking in with David holding onto one of his fingers, a wide grin on his face and him skipping slightly.

“Hey Robert, David,” Alec greeted his friend and the little boy.

“Hi, Uncle Alec,” David replied cheerfully then tugged on Robert’s hand, “Uncle Robert, can I get one of those hot chocolates that you’d promised last night?”

“Sure, just ask one of the people in the kitchen to help you, okay?” Robert gave David a little push towards the direction of the kitchenette then turned and gave a tired smile at Alec. “I think he’s gotten over the death of his sister…though he’s an active little child. My wife and I entertained him last night at our house…you know we’re going to have to find him a foster home…”

“Or you can adopt him,” Alec shrugged, “you two seem to get along amicably.”

“Alec,” Robert shook his head, “you know that the life of a police officer…I can’t even have kids…not if I want to live to see the old day lights. My wife’s even prepared for me to die at a moment’s notice.”

“Yeah,” Alec looked a bit subdued at the statement. He knew that the cost of becoming a police officer meant that relationships were hard…anyone could die at a moment’s notice or be blown to smithereens by a Mage’s spells…which was why he loved Anna.

It wasn’t because of the fact that he needed someone to hold onto, someone to care about, it was because Anna provided the half part of him that he had been missing ever since the early death of his parents, and both knew that if they ever got married then kids would be out of the question, as Anna refused to pass on her Mage abilities to her children. But there was a fifty percent chance that their children weren’t going to become Mages, but Anna had already made that vow.

“You guys okay? It looks like you had a rough night or something,” Robert asked, indicating Alec’s hair, which was in slight disarray, “dream anything to give you nightmares?”

Alec blinked at the statement and looked curiously at Robert…was there something different about his friend? Shaking it off, he realized that his friend was trying to attempt some levity and quirked a small smile, “Nah…just some-“

The slamming of a door made at least everyone jump and raised voices echoed from the front end of the police station. The voices kept coming towards them and Alec recognized one as Ben’s the other’s as Franklin, Ben’s older brother’s voice.

“Well you tell him to shove it up where it belongs!”

“No! You don’t understand-“

“Oh hell yeah, I understand perfectly. He’s being a pain in the ass.”

“So? That doesn’t mean you have to give him such a hard time!”

“Yes it does, Frank, yes it does!”

Ben came charging into the common area and headed straight for his office, Frank hot on his heels as the two brothers passed by all and the door to Ben’s office slammed close, muffling the sounds of shouting and a few curses that came this way.

Alec stared at the door…wondering what was that all about when turned to see Liz, walking in, an expression of irritation lighting up her face. She was glaring at the door the two brothers were in then as if suddenly, noticed that they were sitting there, smiled at them.

“Hi guys,” she said, “hi Robert.”

“Detective,” Robert greeted kissing her hand to which Liz laughed lightly.

“You know that if Frank sees you doing that you’ll be working in jail duty for the rest of your life,” she teased then swept around the desk and plopped herself into another empty chair next to them.

“Then I think I’ll be going somewhere else for now…I’ll see you later Alec, Detective Elanore, Miss Ruthersfield,” Robert grinned at them before walking away towards the kitchenette.

“So,” Liz turned towards them, “do you mind if I ask you a question. I mean it might sound a bit awkward, but please…humor me?”

“Um…sure,” Anna replied, tilting her head slightly and Alec nodded, giving his full attention to her.

“All right…Anna you’re a multi-believer right?” Liz asked.

“Yes…”

“And you know somewhat how to interpret dreams right?”

“Uh…sort of…”

“Okay,” Liz took a deep breath then continued, “can you tell me why I’ve been having this dream where I’m like killing something and it’s trying to reach me. I get stabbed and then I am injured…someone calls my name…like Eo-something-“

“Eowyn?” Anna put in gently.

“Yes!” Liz looked to be near hysterics before she suddenly froze and stared at Anna…then did a double take and stared at Anna again before her wide light blue gaze met Alec’s and did another double take. “Arwen…Aragorn?”

* * *

Ben slammed a fist against his desk, scattering papers and reports that he had been working on last night onto the ground and gritted his teeth in frustration. “Dammit, Frank, stop trying to defend Father!”

“I’m not, you git!” Frank shouted back and Ben glared at his brother, “I’m only trying to tell you to reason with him! You know how he is!”

“Yeah, sniveling, brattish, and little cunning son of a bitch, that’s what he is!” Ben shouted back, “He’s just like he used to be, a fallen Steward of Gondor!”

“That was your fault, Boromir!”

“No, it wasn’t. I was trying to find a way to bring Gondor out of the light, Faramir!”

“Well if you haven’t gotten yourself killed-“ Frank stopped in mid sentence and Ben looked up to see a shocked expression on his brother’s face and stared at him.

“What?” he asked, clueless to the expression on his brother’s face.

“Did you…” Frank swallowed, “did you know…what you said?”

“Yeah, I said that Father was a sniveling-“

“No, forget that,” Frank cut him off with a slice of his hand in the air, “you said Father was like he used to be, a fallen Steward of Gondor…”

“Yeah, and…” Ben motioned for his brother to continue on before it the reasoning belted him across the head…his eyes widened and his jaw dropped slightly as he realized what he had said…

“You’ve been dreaming too?” both brothers asked each other at the same time.

“Yes,” they replied to each other’s question at the same time.

“Oh my God…” Ben sat down heavily in his chair while Frank leaned against the desk, head bowed then he looked up and the two brothers stared at each other…

It was only a soft knock that startled the two from their shock and they jumped at the sound. Ben rubbed his face before he gruffly said, “Come.”

As the door opened Alec stuck his head in, “Um…”

“What do you want Aragorn?” Ben asked tiredly, still not over the initial shock when he froze with what he was doing and the papers that he was trying to shuffle together dropped once again on the floor. He looked up towards the door to see shock also written on Alec’s face…or was that Aragorn’s face that was staring back at him?

“Okay…” Alec quickly stepped in and closed the door behind him and leaned against it, “now I really know that I’m not the only one going crazy…”

“I need not to assume that you’ve been dreaming too?” Frank asked and Ben saw Alec nod.

“This is total bullshit,” Ben commented as he bent down and picked up the papers he dropped, “but part of me believes it, part of me doesn’t.”

“Same here,” Alec agreed, “but I think we are the Reincarnations of the former Fellowship…”

“And you’re telling me that J.R.R. Tolkien’s book exists?” Ben almost laughed at the absurdity of the statement.

“It could…” Frank looked thoughtful, “I mean…that would mean that Liz is Eowyn…who married Faramir, and Anna is actually Queen Arwen Undomiel…”

Ben wanted to laugh but something in his brother’s words made him quell that laughter down. He glanced out, beyond where Alec was leaning against the door and did realize with a start that Anna Elanore did look a lot like Arwen Undomiel, with the exception of the lack of Elven ears that made her distinct from humans, and Frank’s fiancée Liz did look a lot like Eowyn from what he read in Tolkien’s books…after all he, if he was Boromir, did die to defend Frodo Baggins from the Uruks and Orcs at Amon Hen.

“Then why are we all here?” he asked.

“I think it’s the reason that we’re all warriors…or something of that nature that brought us all here…” Alec looked a bit troubled.

“Then tell me where is Eomer’s Reincarnation?” Ben asked, “I read in Tolkien’s books, if they are true to history, that Eomer had fought with the two of you…”

“Oh my God…I think he is here,” Frank replied suddenly, “but not here in that way…Liz told me that her brother was a renegade of the United States Army and has his own little force who patrols between the two major cities of New York and Boston…just like the Rohirrim from Tolkien’s books.”

“Shit…you have got to be kidding me,” Ben resisted the urge to slam his forehead against his desk as he dropped his papers again. This time though he didn’t bother to pick them up, as he knew that somehow he was going to drop them again in either shock or surprise.

“Then why now? Why all of us together?” he stared at Frank and Alec, willing them to give him an answer when a sudden shout of warning muffled by the door came from outside in the common area and the door suddenly was blasted open.

* * *

Anna stared at Liz…finally seeing the tiny bits and pieces of Eowyn come together in her mind. She couldn’t really believe it that her partner was Eowyn, the shield-maiden of Rohan. And she herself was formerly an Elf…an Elven Princess to say the least, then a mortal Queen of the race of Men.

It was Tolkien coming to life…

It was insanity…

It was nothing but a hallucination…

Nothing but a dream…

But dreams did come true…and dreams were sometimes real…

And without denying the fact, Anna knew that in her heart, mind, body, and soul, she was Arwen Undomiel and Anna Elanore. She was formerly an Elf and now a Vernomage.

“It’s daunting isn’t it?” Liz asked softly, staring at her lap, which her hands were placed on, “I mean…I’ve always felt out of place when growing up…like I wanted to protect something or someone. When…I met Frank, something inside of me said that I had found the person I was trying to protect…”

“I know…” Anna placed a comforting hand on one of Liz’s, “but the thing is…why now…why were we suddenly given our memories of our previous life back?”

“A warning?” Liz asked, her blue eyes full of worry.

“Maybe,” Anna replied and was about to say more when David came into the common area, holding what seemed to be a half emptied cup of hot chocolate, a wide grin on his face.

“Auntie Anna!” David said cheerfully, placing the cup down and running up towards them, “do you know where Uncle Alec is?”

“He’s in a meeting, at the moment,” Anna replied warily, the sudden uneasiness from last night returning as she met David’s gaze, “I wouldn’t want to bother them…”

“Oh…okay…I’ll just wait outside,” David replied and skipped off to wait at the door to Ben’s office.

“Remind me never to give him hot chocolate,” Robert’s voice spoke from her left and she turned to see him standing with a crooked smile on his face. The feeling of uneasiness got stronger as Anna stared at Robert. She noticed that he was pale and sweating so much even though it was very temperate in the building…

“Robert?” Liz asked, “are you okay?”

“Hmm?” Robert replied, “oh yeah…I’m fine. It’s just very hot in here though…” He wiped sweat off of his brow with his sleeve, but even more sweat began to bead on his forehead.

“Robert,” Anna stood up slowly, “are you sure you’re okay? You were just fine a few minutes ago…”

“Yeah,” the sweat had begun to fall like rain drops and Anna noticed that his once fine black skin was beginning to turn an ugly pale color…as if he was loosing all of his pigmentation. Anna had only seen skin turn that color once in all her life…but she knew what was the cause of it…

“Liz…” she warned her partner who had also started to back away, “stay close…”

“Anna?” Robert’s breathing had begun to become labored, “what’s wrong?”

Taking a quick glance at the door that was Ben’s office she noticed that David’s hands were glowing red…and he was placing his small fingers and palms on the door…

“Alec!” she shouted a warning towards the people inside of the office just as Robert, an Undead, launched himself at her, skin now a pale white color, almost transparent, saliva drooling down his face, his eyes bloodshot.

David blasted the door open.


	11. Escape

Fredrick Baskerville wasn’t what you would call a typical college graduate. After all, living in the Black City, or New York City as some of the high intellectuals still called it, was either pure insanity or pure desperation. He was neither of those. He was like his three other friends, here to learn, here to be educated.

Fred planned on escaping to maybe the Golden City, Silver City or even heck the famed White City where business corporations flourished, when he was finished with his master’s degree. But as of right now, he wanted to enjoy his friends’ company and was actually quite glad that they all took the same course together…well the three friends he had took the course while he was student teaching it.

For his graduate study of Literature, he had opted to become a Teacher’s Aide to Mr. White, and now with his three other friends, Sam Granger, Matthew Biggs, and Phillip Theatum, Phil and Matt being his distant cousins, made their way into the classroom, pushing past the other students, a body of eighty students for today’s lesson, and took their seats in the second to front row, where they were able to pay attention yet at the same time throw spitballs at a few of the late comers who skirted into the lecture hall.

Sitting down, Fred noticed that Mr. White left a note on the board saying that today they were going to have a guest lecturer, Mr. Lorien.

“Hey, you know anything about this Mister Lorien or something?” Phil elbowed him in the ribs and Fred glared at his cousin.

“Nothing, so shut up,” he replied back before ducking an attempted whack by Phil who grinned at him, “I’m serious Phil, Mr. White’s never told me anything about this.”

“Then I guess we won’t have to listen to your boring lecture today!” Matt interjected from sitting next to Phil and Fred rolled his eyes sighing. His cousins thought that it would have been a great delight to take the course he was T.A.ing and to make jokes throughout class time. That sort of died down when they received their mid-term grades…

“Guys, quit it…I mean, Fred’s not that bad a lecturing,” Sam tried to smooth all tensions down, but that only made Phil and Matt poke fun even more.

“You’re just saying that just because you’re a froshie, a little old freshman who’s just out of high school,” Phil teased and Sam ducked his head, ruefully running a hand through his cropped dirty-blonde hair.

“Ah!” Mr. White’s booming voice startled all of them into silence. Fred grinned as their teacher walked in. That and many other reasons why he liked Mr. White as a teacher and as a friend to work with. The old man had a presence that could be felt by anyone and though his voice was usually soft-spoken and with bright interest in whatever topic he talked about, there were times that it could be raised to grab the attention of anyone…like what he did just now.

Fred noticed that following behind Mr. White was another old man…who could pass as a distant relation to Mr. White, except this one for some odd reason demanded respect and attention…while Mr. White demanded attention and courtesy.

The whole class was silent as the two made their way up to the podium and Fred noticed that even Phil and Matt, who were usually quietly talking to each other in the midst before class started had fallen silent and all were staring at the old man that followed behind Mr. White. He had a feeling that this was Mr. Lorien…

“Ah…so silent today?” Mr. White joked and the class murmured laughter but fell silent again, “surely it isn’t because of our guest lecturer, Mr. Lorien, is it?”

Seeing that the class was probably either too rapt with their attention focused on Mr. Lorien or either scared out of their wits for no reason, Mr. White cleared his throat and stepped off of the podium and took one of the seats on the side as Mr. Lorien stepped up.

“Good morning class…” Mr. Lorien’s words were odd…precise…almost intoned, “I am Mr. Irmo Lorien and before you ask…yes my guardians named me after the Tolkien created god Lorien because they were great fans of his works.”

That brought a few titters of laughter among the people and Fred even lifted a grin before Mr. Lorien pitted them with a stare again. “I am here at the request of Mr. White to lecture you on your current reading of Mr. Tolkien’s works…”

As Mr. Lorien continued to drone on and on, Fred found himself feeling very sleepy and though he tried to keep his eyes open as surely as Mr. White would be furious with him for falling asleep in class; he was grateful as he fell into a deep oblivious sleep…

It was so comforting…and he found himself floating…

* * *

Gandalf watched carefully as the rest of the class, their attention focused solely on Lorien, began to get looks of stupor on their faces. He had to admit, Lorien was very effective at holding an audience. He noticed that the four Reincarnated hobbits had fallen asleep, and Lorien was staring at them working his powers to make them remember their former lives. He hoped that Frodo’s Reincarnation would be able to handle the onslaught of dreams…especially since he was a former Ringbearer…

He sighed softly and sat back in the chair, listening to Lorien talk about the comparisons of the world of Middle Earth and the possibilities of how Tolkien’s influence in wars and the various maps shown in diagrams and various side books published by other writers. If the students only knew…if they only knew that Tolkien had received the Red Book of Westmarch from the Gamgee family line…

Originally, when he found out that Tolkien was writing down the story of the Lord of the Rings and the War of the Ring, he had been furious and took it upon himself to find out how the author received such information…but as it was published, he saw that it wasn’t really harmful to anyone as humans took fiction, fantasy and science fiction novels to heart that they weren’t true and only few dreamed as if it was real.

Roughly forty years later after the books were published, Gandalf had wanted to laugh out loud as an inspiring filmmaker took it upon himself to create Tolkien’s books into movies. He had to admit that when he saw it in the theaters it was pretty good, with the exceptions of a few parts that he felt were changed badly, but even the actor supposedly playing him was good…barring the fact that they got someone a bit too tall to play him.

Letting his thoughts wander, he thought about the growing darkness that was amassing in the world. Though he didn’t really know all the details as much as he liked, he knew that the Valar were somehow connected in a fine intricate way. His master didn’t really talk about it too much and Gandalf knew from personal experience, that Lorien always had an agenda of his own, usually involving those lower than he was.

The return of Melkor, or Morgoth as he had given himself up to the habit of saying the Vala’s changed name as it was written in the history books, disturbed him greatly as he knew that Morgoth and his first lieutenant Sauron, wouldn’t hesitate to kill the members of the Fellowship, at least the members that were human and Elven. Though the other Fellowship themselves didn’t know it, but they were playing an important part in all of this, in all of this complicated web of deceit, lies, and the struggle to survive.

He just hoped that Lorien did not start the dreams too late, as there were unconfirmed reports that The Nine Nazgul had begun to move…

“And so ends my lecture for today,” Lorien’s booming voice suddenly startled all of the students in the room and Gandalf raised an eyebrow. He would have to take a few deducting points for those who looked dazed…which was practically everyone in the room. He smiled ruefully as the four former hobbits suddenly sat up in their seats, startled and a bit abashed looking. Well, Fredrick was the only one looking pretty embarrassed for falling asleep.

Standing up, Gandalf clapped his hands together, “Thank you Mr. Lorien…class, you’re dismissed early. Remember that you have an essay due from today’s lecture on Monday!”

He walked over to the podium and nodded his goodbyes to the students who charged out of the lecture hall, some rubbing sleep from their eyes, others just chatting. He noticed that the four hobbits were reluctant to move, and were looking around as if they had never been in the classroom before. Did Lorien overdo the dreaming process? Gandalf wondered as he approached them, the last vestiges of the students streaming out to head to their next classes or back to their dorm rooms.

“And I thought you four would be the first ones to dash out of my classroom,” he startled them and stared at them, his hands folded in front of him.

“Begging your pardon, Mr. Gandalf sir…” Sam apologized hastily, “we didn’t mean to intrude…it’s just that…”

Gandalf raised an eyebrow at Sam’s words, and noticed the shocked look that appeared on the young man’s face. The same shocked look slowly appeared on all of the other’s faces before Fred slowly stood…

“Gandalf?” he asked, peering at him and Gandalf tilted his head, “no…wait…you’re Mr. White…and…I’m…”

“Frodo Baggins!” Phil suddenly interjected cheerfully.

“Shut up Pippin,” Fred glared at his cousin, “I mean…uh…Phil. Uh…what’s going on here?”

“I think I’m to explain that,” Lorien stepped towards them and Gandalf stepped back to let his master speak.

“Uh…wonderful lecture Mr. Lorien…sorry that we fell asleep from it,” Fred hastily apologized.

“No worries,” Lorien replied, “you were supposed to fall asleep. For the reason being, I’m sure that you’re all confused at the moment, a…how should I say it in human terms…an identity crisis. Truth is, you are Frodo Baggins _and_ you are Fredrick Baskerville.”

Fred looked like he was slammed upside a wall.

“And to you,” he addressed the three other former hobbits, “you are Phillip Theatum and Peregrin Took, Meriadoc Brandybuck and Matthew Biggs, and Frodo’s ever loyal friend and gardener, Samwise Gamgee and Sam Granger.”

“You have got to be kidding,” Matt started before his face closed up and Gandalf could almost see the gears churning in his head, “but…wait…it does make sense…”

“Makes sense in a twisted fashion,” there was a definite hint of an accent in Phil’s voice now…something that hadn’t been there for the last twenty or so years that he had been alive.

“With the merging of your memories and of your Reincarnations there can be side effects though, for example, Phillip, born in the United States to parents of a long lineage of English background though never showed a hint of an accent until now…” Lorien explained then folded his long sinewy fingers together, “there can also be more dangerous side effects…”

“Like what?” Sam asked.

“That I cannot say for it is not for me to say at the moment…in due time of course,” Lorien smiled.

“But that’s bullshit! Who the hell are you to say that?” Sam yelled and Gandalf made a move to stop the young man from saying anymore when Lorien held up a hand to motion to Gandalf not to move.

“If it weren’t for the fact that your ancestors gave the Red Book of Westmarch to Tolkien, and you just Awakened, I would have you destroyed on this spot,” Lorien’s voice became very icy and it seemed that a dark gloom fell, illuminating him in a bright white light, “I am Lorien, the Vala Master of Dreams, young Halfling.”

Sam and the others shrank back and Gandalf stepped forward, not caring if Lorien wanted him to or not. “Lorien, you are scaring them. If they are so important, I think scaring them would not do us any good,” he addressed him and Lorien stared at him for a second before nodding.

“As you said Olorin, you must go… _now_ ,” Lorien returned to his normal human form and Gandalf bowed his head once.

“Aren’t you coming with us?” Fred asked, as they got up from their seats and headed to the door.

“No, young Halfling, I have work to do,” Lorien replied before Gandalf took Fred and steered him out. He gave one more look to Lorien and though silence passed through them, Gandalf knew what those eyes said that were not spoken. _The hobbits must be safe…_

* * *

Fred followed Gandalf’s form, noticing that his once grey suit had changed into pure white robes and his staff was in front of him, aiding him as they quickly walked through the halls and stairs of Columbia University. The odd thing was the fact that the other students walking around didn’t even notice or acknowledge them, especially Gandalf’s clothes. It was as if they were invisible to the other student population and teachers walking around.

“We _are_ invisible, Fredrick,” Gandalf replied to his unspoken question, “and we are going to the Golden City.”

“Why?” Phil asked, ever curious then turned and grinned at Fred, “you think his next words are probably that there are Elves there…hah!”

“As the matter of fact, Phillip Theatum, there _are_ Elves in the Golden City. Lord Elrond rules the Golden City.”

The laughter died on Phil’s lips as his eyes widened at the mention of Elves and Elrond. “You mean…they never faded away? Like what Tolkien said in his books, or something of that nature?”

“Quite the contrary,” Gandalf didn’t turn back as he was answering but his voice still carried strongly back to them, “the Elves have been alive since the First Age.”

“Wait…if we’re Reincarnated…what about the others? Like Strider or King Theoden?” Matt asked.

“Aragorn has been Reincarnated as well…as for King Theoden…I do not know what has happened,” Gandalf seemed saddened but then pushed on, “come hobbits, or should I say former hobbits, we must hurry.”

They pushed into the semi-busy morning streets of the uptown New York City, and Gandalf quickened his pace then pulled something out…something that looked like one of the high-tech communication devices.

“Why do we have to hurry? What’s going on Gandalf?” he asked as he started to jog to keep pace with the wizard’s seemingly longer strides.

“Elladan, Elrohir, are you there?” Gandalf either ignored his question or didn’t hear it.

“Hey G-man,” a perky voice replied cheerfully from the comm device, “what can we do for you?”

“You can pick us up, and please…I am not what you call ‘G-man’ or whatever statement that is,” Gandalf replied.

“Whatever G-man…we’re coming,” the perky voice replied and Fred grinned at seeing the tired expression on Gandalf’s face as he put the comm device away. “Elves born in the Third Age,” he heard the wizard mutter.

“Gandalf,” Fred gasped slightly from the exertion, “can you please tell us why we are hurrying? Is there something after us?”

“Ai ai, a Nazgul,” Phil joked, smiling widely…just as a reverberating _scream_ pierced the air…

Fred froze as he knew that scream…the _scream_ of a Nazgul…

He could remember hearing the flapping of wings, the deep _thump thump_ , the cry of the Nazgul’s steed…a horrible winged thing with claws so sharp and as large as the size of a hobbit’s sword…the blackness that had enveloped him…the pain…

Fred suddenly gasped as he felt a blinding pain on his shoulder, and his legs gave way and he buckled to the ground, gasping against the pain that threatened to overwhelm him. It hurt so badly…it was trying to claw at his heart, his soul, ripping his flesh away from his skin. He clutched at his shoulder, once again seeing the ghostly images of the nine fallen kings…except this time they weren’t kings, they were humans of all different sizes and shape…

One of the shapes smiled cruelly down at him and reached out with a white tendril of a hand…

“Fred! Fred!” Sam’s voice pierced into his consciousness and he opened his eyes to see Sam’s concerned face looking down at him. Beyond him, Gandalf was holding his staff up, it’s white jewel glittering against what looked to be hordes of creatures flying around…

“It hurts…it hurts,” he whispered as he gritted his teeth against the pain. He tried to push against the pain that seared his whole body and mind and staggered up, leaning heavily against Sam and Phil. He saw through pain filled eyes that Mages of all sorts were flying on their summons or in shield balls, but there were at least three who looked to be Irimages that were flying on what looked to be real dragons.

Dragons that breathed fire.

Gandalf was holding a shield over them, Fred noticed dimly, and watched as one of the dragons made a lazy pass at them, raking fire and claws over the shield harmlessly. He could see the black cloak of the Nazgul riding on top of the dragon and stared at it…mesmerized.

 _Come…_ the Nazgul beckoned to him and Fred felt himself curious about the black hooded Mage on top of the dragon. _Come…Halfling…_

 _Come? Why…_ he asked.

_Join us…Be us…_

“You shall not have them!” Gandalf suddenly shouted and Fred jerked back as the mental connection between him and the Nazgul was suddenly broken…just as something bluish-silver raked through the air and impacted the Nazgul’s dragon in the chest.

A giant explosion ripped in the air and Fred ducked slightly as the Nazgul’s steed was blown apart, showering everything in its carcass and magical bits. Piece of the carcass bounced off the shield Gandalf had created around them, and Fred saw the Nazgul drop to the ground, unmoving.

The buzz of a hover-copter flew pass where once the Nazgul was and all the Mages that had been in the air scattered and Fred watched, the pain now dimmed, as the hover-copter landed in front of them. Two Elves he faintly recognized were in the copter, one in the pilot’s seat the other in what looked to be a gunnery mount that opened on one side of the copter.

“Your copter has arrived,” the Elf in the gunnery seat said, grinning cheerfully and Fred suspected that this was the Elf that called Gandalf G-man. “Elrohir at your service!”

Gandalf motioned for them to climb aboard and Fred scrambled up, after some help from Sam and Phil before Matt clambered up after him followed by Phil and Sam. Gandalf came in last and Fred had to grab onto something as the copter suddenly rose into the air.

Fred noticed with dismay that the Mages were following them and glanced at Elrohir in the gunnery seat who had a slightly insane look on his face, and eerie blue glowing eyes. He noticed that the Elf’s hands were glowing blue and that the heavy machine gun looked like it had gone through a change of sorts. With a start he realized that this was Techno-fusing, something only Technomages could do.

“All right, who’s first?!” Elrohir gave a war cry and started to shoot blue bolts out of the muzzle of the machine gun.

Fred watched amazed as each of the Elf’s bullets hit a target…he had forgotten that Elves were so accurate in the art of war, and little by little the two Nazgul still flying on their dragons had fallen behind along with the Mages that were following them.

“Elladan, we have to stop by the Museum of Natural History,” Gandalf suddenly called to the Elf in the pilot’s seat.

“Why? What’s in the Museum?” Matt asked.

“An old friend,” was Gandalf’s cryptic reply.


	12. Flight

As the door blasted open, Alec instinctively leapt out of the way, raising his arms to protect his eyes from the splinters of wood and shards of glass that accompanied the shattering of the windows too. Stinging pain raced up his back as a few splinters dug into his skin, but he ignored it and glanced up in the billowing cloud of dust and smoke to see David…standing there with his hands glowing red…

“Elessar,” David’s voice, no longer the perky cheerful ten-year-old was now a deep hissing growl…

Alec stood up warily, his hands held to his shoulder height in the standard gesture of surrender, his eyes focused on what the little kid...was going to do. It was kind of obvious to him now that David wasn’t a Vernomage as he had suspected him to be. He was either a very powerful Technomage or an Irimage. He actually hoped for the Techno rather Iri as Irimages were the mentions of a working disaster.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw both Ben and Frank pick themselves off from the ground and also put their hands up in a gesture of surrender. He had a feeling that the gesture wasn’t going to work as he saw David’s eyes, a normal color slowly turn into glowing red ones…David was an Irimage…

“Ah…shit,” Ben whispered softly, but not so loudly that Alec had to strain his ears to hear the curse.

“Who are you, what do you want?” Frank asked the Irimage.

“ _Nazgul_ …kill…” David hissed then suddenly held up his hands and the glowing crackling power brightened and Alec’s eyes widened, as he knew what that meant. He had only taken a few steps to avoid the inevitable blast when the magical energy ripped through the side of the office, tearing down desks as its path took it straight through the window and outside.

Then David _screamed_.

Except this wasn’t the reverberating scream of a Nazgul, this was the scream that somehow, in terms that even Alec couldn’t comprehend, merged with the magical energy and created a vacuum that sucked everything outside. He found himself flying out of the office, along with just about everything else that wasn’t secured or attached to the ground. He burst into the cloudy morning streets of New York City, at least a story up from the ground floor of the police station…when the vacuum effect stopped and everything that was in the air dropped like stone to the hard pavement below.

Alec landed with a jarring impact that rattled his teeth, but he didn’t feel any of his bones give way and looked up…then suddenly rolled to his right as a desk came crashing down upon where he was before. Dust, debris, and flying paper filled the air as various denizen of the city fled from the scene. Batting a few sheets of paper away from his vision, he looked up to where the second floor was and saw a gaping hole where everything had been blown away.

“Alec!” Anna’s voice brought his gaze from the gaping hole to his right and he saw Anna hunched over by a desk that had flipped over. Liz was with her, and he noticed that both women bore a few scratches, some which were still bleeding.

“Anna,” he called.

“Alec, watch out!” Ben’s voice alerted him and he spun without thinking, his hand drawing his gun and he fired.

His bullets impacted what looked to be a young woman…someone he recognized as one of the secretaries in the front desk. But something was different about her. He watched, horrified as she jerked back from the bullets and fell down to her knees on the ground, blood dripping from her open, fatal wounds. But then, she suddenly lifted her head up and Alec stumbled back in surprise, slipping on a few sheets of paper and falling to the ground.

Her eyes were totally black, even the whites. It was as if the black cornea of the eye suddenly swallowed everything up and her skin was a lucid transparent color. White frothing saliva was dripping down her mouth and she stood up slowly and lazily, her arms hanging limply at her sides. A few patches of her once red hair fell out in clumps and what replaced them was some kind of vicious growth, ugly greenish-brown color. As she stepped towards him, Alec tried to find some kind of purchase to scramble up, but none seemed to cooperate with him.

The secretary was an Undead and every fiber of his being screamed for him to move before the Undead touched him.

“Don’t even think about it!” Anna suddenly appeared beside him, and Alec noticed that her blue-green glowing eyes were blazing as she prepared a defensive spell against the Undead.

The Undead secretary turned her black-eyed gaze onto Anna and tilted her head as if in morbid curiosity then suddenly smiled a wide, toothy death smile. That was when Anna fired what looked like a white ball of light and the Undead’s head suddenly exploded, showering the area around her in messy greenish goo.

“Thanks,” Alec forced himself not to stare at the green pile and instead took Anna’s outstretched hand and pulled himself up.

“Anytime,” Anna replied before another crash came from the floor that they had been on and they both looked towards the gaping hole…

The little boy David came floating through, unaided by anything that Alec could see that resembled the pinkish shield that all Mages used when floating or shielding themselves from magical and non-magical attacks. The kid was floating on pure air, or was the floating due to an invisible shield that Alec had never saw the spell for.

David hovered just outside the perimeter of the gaping hole and stared down at them. Out of the corner of his eye, Alec also noticed the various Undead that had been his former co-workers and fellow officers had also stopped, but were staring at them, as if waiting for an unseen or unheard order.

The little boy suddenly opened his mouth farther than Alec would have thought possible and even unhinged his jaw like some species of snake were able to and _screamed_ again.

But this time three others answered his scream…

A cold feeling swept through Alec as he looked around, the floating forms of three black hooded Nazgul suddenly appeared, and hosts of Orcs followed their wake…all of them, combined with the Undead, forming a circle around him, Anna, Liz, Frank, and Ben. They were surrounded…they were trapped…they were going to die…

“If I die,” Alec muttered mostly to himself as he drew out his gun and set it to full automatic, “then I’ll take a few with me…”

“You’re not going to die, not without me,” Anna whispered back and Alec met her gaze, noticing that her grey eyes were hardening to like ice, the blue-green glow in front of them blazing with hidden power as her hands glowed a bright white.

“You sure about that?” he whispered back, staring at the hordes of enemies surrounding them. With a certain irony, he noticed that the Orcs hadn’t changed much. They still wore the grubby clothes and armor that they had, still carrying the bows and arrows, pikes, swords, and whatever medieval weapons they carried back in the Third Age. Killing the Orcs would be easy…killing the Undead and possibly the four Nazgul would be a lot tougher.

“Real sure,” Anna replied with a tinge of sarcasm.

A sudden strangled yell made Alec turn around and what he saw froze him all together. Robert, who was apparently an Undead, had slipped up from beneath a pile of chairs and desk that Ben had been standing near and was now holding Ben in a hostage hold, the translucent skin touching Ben’s neck and seemingly transferring something into his friend.

“Ben!” Frank’s anguished shout died down as Robert released his hold on Ben and the man collapsed to the ground, twitching and shaking uncontrollably. Robert stared at Alec and smiled predatorily.

“You sick son of a bitch!” Alec fired his gun at his former friend, not caring if the bullets impacted him and didn’t seem to faze the Undead that was Robert at all.

He ceased firing as his gun clicked empty and he cursed silently, all the while glaring at the Undead. He noticed that Frank hesitated to approach his fallen brother for the risk of being touched by the Undead and instead was cursing a blue streak.

He wondered why Anna didn’t fire a ball of light at the Undead that had Touched Ben and turned slightly…then started and turned fully, his jaw dropping a few centimeters before he closed it and stared at the Nazgul that had landed in back of them, Anna already building a shield to protect whatever spells the Nazgul was going to throw at them.

Alec placed a hand on Anna’s shoulder, ready to jump in front of her to stop a penetrating spell. For anything in the world, he wasn’t going to let Anna die like Gwen did, he was going to protect her until the end…

The Nazgul raised a clawed finger and electricity started to crackle around the fingertips. Tensing, Alec faced the Nazgul ready to die…he knew it was suicide of course, him without any weapons having emptied it in anger on the Undead that was Robert, but he could always use his fists to maybe beat the living shit out of the Nazgul before it killed him…

The lightening charge was crackling in arcs now…and the Nazgul, red eyes peering from underneath its black cloak and cowl blazed…

Just as a bluish energy arrow struck it on the back of his head, pitching the Nazgul forward…

Alec backed away as the Nazgul fell heavily to the ground, unmoving, then stared at the distance where the arrow had come from. A pair of glowing blue eyes met his and the owner of the glowing blue eyes held a familiar bow…

Chaos erupted within the ranks of Orcs and Undead.

* * *

Legolas allowed himself a rueful grin as he watched as chaos erupted within the ranks of Orcs and Undead. He loaded up his Techno-fused bow again and fired off another arrow, just as Haldir blazed a nice path through the Orcs and Undead, frying just about anyone who was in the way of the fire spell he had conjured up.

Leaping down from the outcropping he had stood upon, he fired off another few shots at the Undead, destroying them instantly. He knew that human weapons couldn’t kill Undead and only magic was able to penetrate them and ‘kill’ them, as they were technically already dead.

Undoing the magic he had on his gun, he put away his gun just as he reached out with his right hand, the one with the engraved black glitter skull, and seized the head of an Undead. Even though the Undead was technically not alive, they still had souls and he quickly seized the soul of this Undead, before it could touch him.

He stared at the Undead as his hand was still holding its head and watched as its black eyes suddenly drip dark red blood before he let go and the now destroyed Undead collapsed to the ground, disappearing into a puddle of messy goo.

Turning around, he used the recently acquired soul of the Undead and blasted the other Undead that were trying to ambush him. They flew back as if an invisible force hurled them and impacted walls and windows. Each one of them turned into messy piles of goo, the powers of an Undead unleashed against their own rotted flesh was enough to kill them all.

Legolas however, grimaced as an awful taste filled his mouth. He rarely drew the souls of Undead, as it was nearly black magic that shook the core of his being and re-drew his gun out. Releasing the soul of the Undead that he had acquired, he fused his gun into a composite bow once more and fired off another round of arrows, killing a few Orcs that were hiding behind the Undead.

He didn’t bother to check on Haldir’s status, as he knew that his best friend was probably doing a better job than he was, using his Technomage skills to blaze warpaths through the Orcs and Undead. But he also knew that they couldn’t keep this up too long, as the magic happening in this area was surely to attract the various gangs and mafias of Irimages and Technomages. Then things would get extremely messy.

He reached the open area where the police detective Anna Elanore was holding a pink shield over her friends and Legolas casted a reflective spell to penetrate the shield, just as Haldir did the same. With a raised eyebrow Legolas stared at his friend who shrugged. The warpath that Haldir took was effective as it reduced a great amount of Orcs on either side of the encircling enemies. But he also knew that it was extremely taxing to the magic of a Technomage to blaze such a path.

“Don’t worry,” Haldir gave a shrug, “I still have some magic left.”

“I know you…” Alec greeted them, “Legolas! Haldir!”

“Its been too long, old friend,” Haldir embraced Alec fiercely before releasing him, “I see that you’ve gotten your memories back…”

“We all have,” Frank interjected, a bit suspicious as he approached from where he was hunched next to his injured brother, “I’m sorry…I know you’re an ally but I only have been introduced to Legolas here…”

“No worries, introductions can be dealt with later,” Haldir replied then narrowed his eyes at which David and his two other Nazgul were hovering above…

A black cloak seemed to ripple in the air and form around David, clothing him in the garb of a Nazgul. “So that is the Witch-King,” Haldir murmured.

“The what?!” Frank stared in surprise.

“Lady Galadriel has said that the Witch-King of the Nazgul is a young boy with that description,” Haldir explained. “We won’t be able to fight him at the moment, not with Boromir and Lady Eowyn injured.”

Legolas blinked then glanced down to where the captain of the police force was, twitching on the ground, but still conscious. He didn’t notice before but noticed now was that Elizabeth Ruthersfield, the Reincarnation of Eowyn, was bleeding some serious wounds. Even Alec and Anna didn’t look too healthy, more so Alec than Anna as he was bleeding heavily from a gash above his eye and his uniform was ripped in the shoulder. Only Franklin Greens looked almost healthy, save a few dirt smudges here and there.

Suddenly out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that the various Orcs and Undead who were still alive were backing away slowly…and even the three Nazgul who were still floating were frozen in place, eying the sky above them warily.

Looking up, Legolas saw that at least fifteen hover-copters, all painted a matte black color were hovering above the Nazgul…and the pilot in the lead of the pack of copters was none other than Glorfindel, who was staring at the Witch-King with a simple gaze, but not so simple as David the Witch-King twitched slightly in fear.

Grinning, Legolas watched as two other copters flew down above them and a few Elves inside of the main belly threw down ropes while a pinkish bubble encased Ben and Liz and brought them into the copter unharmed. Taking one more look at the quaking frozen Witch-King, he turned and climbed up the rope and was helped inside by an Elf he didn’t know.

“Do you dare attack, Witch-King?” Glorfindel’s voice amplified from where he hovered, and Legolas saw the young black cowed boy float back slightly and stand on the lip of the gaping hole that was once the former second floor of the police station. “You know of what I can do, what we can all do…”

David’s eyes blazed once but he then bowed his head down, “Go…”

An unspoken signal was passed through all fifteen hover-copters, but as one, they rose into the air and sped away from the Black City. Legolas stared at the copter that Glorfindel piloted…he _had_ forgotten that the Nazgul, though seemingly feared no one save their master Sauron, feared the golden haired Eldar, for whatever reasons he did not know…

Fifteen hover-copters flew towards the Golden City, bearing all of the Fellowship and companions, away from the grasp of Sauron and the Nazgul.


	13. Reunion

For Legolas, seeing the once again glittering lights of the Golden City was enough to bring a smile to his face. Even though it was nearly mid-day, the lights still managed to give the city an everlasting glow, and as their pilot touched down on the platform, all the other Elves that were in the copter hopped out and began to help the injured humans out.

Legolas stayed inside as he gently lifted Ben’s unconscious form up and placed the Touched man onto a stretcher that two Elves, both dressed in robes reminiscent of the Third Age and before, were holding. As soon as Ben’s twitching form was placed onto the stretcher, they bore him away probably to a hospital or something that was located in the Golden City branch of Lorien Inc.

Slipping past Frank who was carrying the unconscious form of Liz into another stretcher he hopped out of the copter and looked around. A few of the copters that had arrived with Glorfindel were now buzzing overhead, no doubt on patrol, while some of the others were landing and the various Elves in them powered down their copters. They stepped out and were talking with each other, some clapping each other’s backs while a few just stood there, stolid and quiet.

As he rounded the side of the copter that he had been in, he saw Anna peering down at Alec’s eyes, and both were whispering to each other, Alec being placed on a stretcher. Moving to the side as not to feel that he was intruding into their private conversation, he stepped a bit ways towards another copter and pretended to be interested in it. Truth was that he didn’t really know what to do now…should he follow the rest of the humans to the hospital since most of them were injured or should he just wait for Haldir or perhaps Glorfindel, hell maybe even the twins to some extent, to direct him around…

[ _Haldir…Altarial and Teleporno…importance of…_ ] bits of Quenya Legolas recognized and picked up alerted him of both Glorfindel and Haldir talking on the other side of the copter that he was staring at and though he could understand only sporadic comments of Quenya, he didn’t really pay too much attention to it as he stepped away from the copter and looked into the distant city lights, overshadowed by the bright noon sun.

When he turned back once more, he saw Haldir quickly running into the building and Glorfindel was walking towards him. He gave the Eldar a quick nod of greeting. “Thank you for saving us back there, I would have thought I’d be stealing one of the hover-copters from the police and calling for back up,” he said, “but I thought you had business in the Silver City.”

“That’s what I need to talk to you about,” Glorfindel explained then gestured for him to walk towards the entrance and Legolas obliged, “we might be having problems-“

“ON-O-RE*!!!” the double cry of familiar voices was enough to make him and Glorfindel cringe. They watched as two blurry forms suddenly latched onto the extremely surprised Anna, giving her a giant bear hug. Behind her, the two Elves who were taking the stretcher bearing Alec to the hospital shook their heads and sighed in what looked to be exasperation.

“What the hell?!” was Anna’s surprise reply before she shoved the twins away and stared at them.

Legolas felt almost sorry for Anna, as she was staring at Elladan and Elrohir with uncomprehending eyes and the twins were grinning at her, not at all fazed by her confusion.

“Who the hell are you?” the next words from Anna’s mouth made both twins drop their jaw in shock, which also started Glorfindel chuckling silently.

“Aww…I can’t believe it! After a few thousand millennia and she doesn’t remember us at all!” Elladan looked very put out.

“Yeah…don’t you remember your two beloved brothers, sis?” Elrohir asked, a wide-eyed pouty child-like look on his face.

“Uh…you two are my broth-oh…” the memory seemed to be triggering something in Anna and the confusion that had been on her face was wiped away. “Reality check guys…I’m only the Reincarnation of Arwen, not Arwen herself,” she said.

“Same difference,” Elrohir shrugged, “you’re still our sis, no matter what you say,” he suddenly glanced beyond Anna to the prone form of Alec, “Oh look, otorno’s got some bruises…you figure that the first thing he does when getting his memory back is to get himself all injured…bad otorno**…bad, bad, bad.”

“Guys…would you-“ Anna’s face closed up once more and there seemed to be a hint of dread that fell on her face as she stared beyond the still bright and smiling twins to someone standing by the entrance to the building…

Legolas looked towards the direction she was staring at and saw Elrond standing there, no emotion on his face as both father and reincarnated daughter stared at each other for what was probably the first time since Elrond’s passing into the Undying Lands at the end of the Third Age.

“Elladan, Elrohir,” even the soft commanding tone of Elrond was enough to stop the twins in their tracks from possibly ‘attacking’ the injured Alec in much the way they did to Anna, and they turned around, looking very sheepish.

“Atar***,” the greeted cheerfully, “what brings you here?”

Elrond chose to ignore their cheerfulness and instead focused on him and Glorfindel. “Glorfindel, have you told Legolas what we need him to do?”

“Not yet, I was just getting to that,” Glorfindel replied and Legolas stared at the Eldar, curious. He continued to follow the Elf into the building, passing by a beautiful Elf-maiden who could have passed as a kin to Galadriel, Legolas realized that the Elf-maiden was Elrond’s wife, Celebrian.

He looked back to see the two approach the twins and Anna…a family reunited, broken apart since the beginning of the Third Age.

Of life’s little curves, Legolas suspected that this was one of the rare peaceful moments before anything was to happen. A calm before the storm.

But was kind of storm was it, he did not know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elvish vocabulary:  
> *onore – sister  
> **otorno – sworn brother (an almost brother)  
> ***atar – father (can be spelled adar)


	14. Friction

Once they were past the security checkpoint, with Legolas’ back once again smarting from the pain the detectors gave off, Glorfindel lead him down a few floors from the escalators running in the middle of the building, and towards a different area. On the third floor down, he noticed a sign pointing the direction to the library and was curious to look at it, but reminded himself to focus on the task at hand. He noticed that as soon as they entered the fourth floor down from the top, gone were the gold and silver plated trees, in was the high tech look of a business corporation on the brink of finding new technologies and whatnot.

On the fifth floor down from where they entered, dull silver walls streaked with the colors and bold print letters that said LORIEN INC. in a maroon color decorated the walls and Legolas wondered what was here. He followed the golden haired Eldar into doors that slid open when he touched a panel with his palm and stepped in.

Cautiously, Legolas followed and immediately his eyes widened in awe. The room, with a bluish tint to it from all the monitors and various lights that decorated huge boards with a myriad color of lights, was dazzling to his eyes. It was as if he walked straight into a war room and various Elves were inside this vast room, some talking on headsets, others pointing out various things on three-dimensional maps, yet others configuring system settings for whatever there was in the room. At least every Elf in this room had something to do.

He noticed a group of Elves crowded in an oval, all of them pointing out various things on a four dimensional map of what looked to be the East Coast of the United States. Blinking in surprise, he stared at the Elves once more, noticing that their clothing was completely different from that of some of the other Elves in the room. With a start, he realized that these Elves were from all over the world.

“Cirdan sent a few of his Grey Haven Elves…” Glorfindel whispered to him as he led him to what looked to be a communication board, Haldir with a headset on, standing by a terminal, talking in what looked to be a very fast form of Quenya to the holo-projected images of Galadriel and Celeborn.

“Then who are the rest?” Legolas asked as he looked around, noticing more different Elves.

“From all over. The Golden City is one of two, the White City being the other, for Elves to communicate and gather resource information. What you’ve entered is our Situation Room, where in case of any attacks, we come here and coordinate a battle plan. Haldir brought two of the White City Elves, while Cirdan sent three. Of the High Elves of the Undying Lands, we only have one representative. The rest are Golden City Elves.”

“What about the Silver City Elves?” he asked, and noticed a resigned look on the Eldar’s face.

“That’s where you come in,” Glorfindel replied and Legolas suddenly had a very bad feeling of what the Elf was going to ask him. “As I had told you before you left to pick the rest of the Fellowship up, I had a mission to go to the Silver City. We were to try to ask your father if he could spare a few troops for both the White and Golden City. Sauron is moving and we want to be prepared. Unfortunately, the mission did not go as planned…and…he might as well have thrown us out.”

“Did you happen to mention my name when you were talking with him?” Legolas asked as he knew that though his father was at times cordial to his allies, he knew something that was mentioned in a wrong way could set Thranduil off on a rampage. His father wasn’t what he used to be, a calm reasonable Elf…something had changed…but he figured it was because of living in the former city of Los Angeles.

“Yes…” Glorfindel looked at him curiously and Legolas cursed silently.

“Then I don’t know how I’d be able to help you,” he apologized, “if you want me to communicate with him, then you’ve got the wrong person. Ask someone like Haldir or Elrond to do it.”

“I’m quite busy thank you very much,” Haldir called from his communication before switching back to Quenya and addressing Galadriel.

“Lord Elrond knows of your argument between you and your father, and so do I,” Glorfindel stated flatly, “but he also knows that you have a way to manipulate your father to convince him to send us troops…”

“But why me? If you know of our ‘argument’ no offense Glorfindel, but it wasn’t a mere argument, it was more like a verbal battle almost to the point of blowing each other up with magic; but it isn’t logical for me to talk to him,” Legolas replied equally flatly.

“All right, then,” Glorfindel dragged him over to the oval area where some Elves were crowded, “fine. We’ll show you what’s going on.”

As the Eldar tapped a few keys and touched a few screens, the holo-projected map suddenly dissolved into what looked to be a map of the world, with dots of red, yellow, green and white. “Red is the enemy, yellow for neutral forces that have not yet allied themselves on either side, green for Elves and allies, and white for the Fellowship,” he pointed each cluster of color out and Legolas noticed that the Black City and a few other prominent cities were clustered with a lot of red. A few were moving, but in different directions. Green dots seemed to sitting next to the reds and the yellow of neutral forces only seemed to settle in small groups, near the edges of the map.

He noticed that there was a huge cluster of red and marked by orange on the landmass of what was once the United Kingdom. “What’s that?”

“Saruman,” Glorfindel replied with a hint of acid in his voice, “he’s been playing both sides. We cannot attack him until he turns into a red dot, as he is currently neutral. But with him slowly sliding into orange, then it probably wouldn’t be long before Elrond or Cirdan gives the order to attack.”

“He’s rebuilt an army hasn’t he?” he asked.

“Yes,” the Eldar replied, “and hid it from us for such a long time.”

There was a hint of finality to the subject and Legolas let his gaze roam elsewhere on the map. A small white clump of dots marked where the Golden City was, surrounded by a lot of green dots, but there were a few reds marked among the green. He realized that indeed Haldir was right in saying that the Golden City wasn’t all that it looked to be and appearances were very deceptive. His eyes traveled across to the Euro-Asian continent and he saw a great mass of red, at least three times the size of the cluster of red in the United Kingdom area, spreading as from the cities of Rotterdam and Amsterdam to the Black Sea, but for some reason only bordered to the former great country of Russia.

Among the masses of red were two groups of green, one close to the masses of red, the other extending from Switzerland and downward into Italy. He guessed that the mass of green hugging the coast from where the mouth of Europe’s three major rivers met (Rhine, Meuse, and Schelde) to the borders of Spain and France was Cirdan’s realm, knowing that the Elf had a great love for the Sea and Ocean. The green mass that extended south from Switzerland was probably where Galadriel and Celeborn held their realm, though he wasn’t too sure at the moment.

“The enemy are moving, Morgoth is growing stronger while Sauron eyes this very city to take under his control,” Glorfindel explained then turned to face him, “of the former Greenwood Elves, we are in need of support, that’s why we need you to contact your father.”

Legolas glanced at the map once more, noticing the various red dots moving about. He knew that the Elves would hold against the Sauron or Morgoth for a while, but to have the support of all their allies…it would be vital to morale. Sighing softly, he nodded his head and headed to an empty communication station, the Eldar following behind him.

“All right, now what do I do?” he asked and Glorfindel handed him a headset to which he put over his ear and lowered the speakerphone.

The Eldar punched in a few numbers and codes into the screen that they stood in front of then backed away, giving him privacy as the call went through. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Glorfindel going back to the projected map and started to talk with the various Elves gathered around it.

“Lorien Technology Incorporated Silver City branch, you’ve reached Thranduil’s office, how may I help you,” the projected image of a female Elf dressed in a professional maroon cut business suit, her hair done up in a severe bun.

“I’d like to speak to Thranduil please,” Legolas was a bit uncomfortable, not really used to talking to secretaries or asking to speak to business people. Besides, he didn’t feel it was appropriate to say ‘Father’ since they hadn’t spoken for a long time.

“Mr. Thranduil is busy at the moment, can I take a message?” the Elf seemed bored with the whole conversation, as if she had to deal with something like this almost every single day. For some odd reason, the Elf looked extremely familiar, but he couldn’t place the name of the Elf with the face.

“It’s important,” Legolas wondered if mentioning Elrond would get him anywhere, but decided to go ahead, “I have a message from Lord Elrond.”

“I’m sorry, but Mr. Thranduil is not taking any messages from Lord Elrond at the moment, he’s very busy. Now if you need to leave that message I can transfer you to his answering machine-“

By now, he was getting frustrated at all the bureaucratic crap that he was receiving and steeled himself to stay calm, “No thank you, can you please just transfer me to speak directly to him?”

“I’m _sorry_ , but I cannot. Mr. Thranduil is a very busy man-“

“So busy that he can’t even talk to his own son?” Legolas cut her off and watched as a new expression appeared on her bored face; one of surprise.

“Excuse me?” the secretary blinked.

“Hello Erdaliel,” he remembered the Elf’s name, as she was one of Thranduil’s advisors during when he ruled Mirkwood, “its me, Legolas.”

“M-My…P-Prince,” Erdaliel immediately straightened finally recognizing him, “forgive me, Prince Legolas…I, um, will put you through right away.”

The projection faded away for a few seconds before an irritated projection of Thranduil appeared. “What?” was the growl of greeting.

Legolas frowned at his father’s immaculate appearance…then took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He steeled himself not to lose his temper and greeted curtly, “Hello Thranduil. Long time no speak.”

“ _You_ …” was the surprised reply that wiped all pretenses of irritation from Thranduil’s face.

* * *

Haldir listened as Celeborn explained the mission the Fellowship was to go on. Though personally he thought it was a form of suicide, he had always respected the Lady and Lord’s wishes and their orders. They were the one of the wisest of all Elves he had known, including compared to the child-like innocence of the Elves of Valinor when he had crossed the Great Sea so many Ages ago.

The mission consisted of many dangerous perils, perils that he knew that even with a legion of Elves could not complete, yet for the Fellowship, they were special. Each one of the Reincarnated Fellowship members had unique gifts, and Haldir respected that. He knew that Galadriel who had planned the mission with the four other Elven Lords to be assigned to the members of the Fellowship was a wise decision, but he couldn’t help feel worried for their safety.

If they should fail…

No, he mustn’t think such thoughts as that…they were chosen to be Reincarnated by Iluvatar for a specific reason. They would not fail. As Celeborn finished up the specifics, Lady Galadriel’s intense gaze caught his and he pulled himself out of his musings.

“Haldir,” her voice was soft, musical, but cold as steel, “the last part of the mission must fall to Legolas and him alone. Warn him; tell him of the dangers involving this part. Tell him as you would for your own brothers. I know that though there is no blood bond between the two of you, you are still brothers at heart.”

“I will do as you ask me, milady. Though I am also concerned for the outcome and for his well-being,” Haldir replied, bowing slightly.

“He must not fail,” Galadriel whispered, “or die trying.”

There was a long measured look passed between Haldir and Galadriel before the communication faded. He took off his headset with a grim sigh then glanced at where Legolas seemed to be in the beginnings of communicating with his estranged father. Turning his gaze away from his best friend he looked over to Glorfindel, who was planning with the other represented Elves a feasible battle plan. He noticed that Fereveldir and Arthonas the two Elves that had accompanied him to the Golden City and also to represent the White City, were engrossed in the maps that the Eldar had brought up. They would be all right and if the Lady or Lord had another communication within the few minutes that he would be gone, they would be able to take the call.

He headed out of the Situation Room and went upstairs to where Elrond held his meetings in the ever changing and shape-shifting chamber. They needed to talk about the Fellowship’s upcoming mission.

* * *

Legolas didn’t know what expression had appeared on his father’s face, but he knew that all there was now between the two of them was neutrality, neither side showing any emotions whatsoever. “You’re looking well,” he commented.

“As you,” his father replied levelly. Gone were the blonde-brown long tresses, and in replacement of those tresses was a closely cropped hair that was spiked heavily with gel.

An uncomfortable and awkward silence followed before Thranduil sighed, “This isn’t a social call is it?”

“No,” Legolas replied, “I bring word from Lord Elrond.”

“Ah, so you’re playing his messenger boy now,” Thranduil jabbed and Legolas steeled himself not to flinch at the intentional jab. He knew his father wanted to provoke something out of him, maybe a groveling apology or maybe another fight, but he wasn’t going to give his father the satisfaction of that.

“Morgoth is moving as you might know-“

“You think? Of course I know,” Thranduil interrupted then clicked on a few buttons off screen, “he’s getting stronger and amassing his troops with far more efficiency than we’ve ever seen.”

Feeling his anger rise, Legolas tried to suppress it down and plunged on, “Elrond and the others request that you send a few of the Silver City Elves to aid us. Apparently, Elrond is going to war a lot sooner than any of us had ever thought.”

“That’s the same thing Elrond’s right hand, Glorfindel said…well, except he didn’t say it in such a hasty fashion. More eloquent you know, just like the Eldar he is,” Legolas knew that his father was trying to bait him, but the real reason why he didn’t know.

“Then why did you reject his proposal?” he countered, not rising to the bait.

“Because it is foolish, Legolas. Elrond and the others are moving too fast and hasty preparation can get you nowhere. Look at how the humans fought, they were too hasty and now they’ve created monsters of themselves, all of them squabbling and fighting wars of their own,” Thranduil said, his glowing blue eyes blazing with held back anger.

“Then when is the time to move?”

“When the timing is right,” he father neatly dodged the question, but Legolas wasn’t going to let it slip past him.

“That’s circular reason, Thranduil, if the time to move is ‘right’ then why not now? Why not now when the Fellowship has been Reincarnated? If you do have your map up as I think you would, then you would probably notice that the Nazgul have been hunting us,” he explained.

“Hunting only the Fellowship, not us-“

“Hunting everyone,” he interrupted him, “Sauron’s probably afraid of what we Elves can do. Why not attack him now?”

“You sound just like a war-mongering fool, but if you want to wage this crusade of yours along with Elrond and the other High Elves, then so be it,” Thranduil leaned back against his leather chair, which Legolas noticed was made out of alligator skin, “troops will be sent, one-thousand each, one to the Golden City and one to the White City.”

“Thank you-“

“Don’t thank me,” Thranduil leaned forward, “I didn’t do it for your sorry-“

“It wasn’t for me,” he countered, “it was for the Elves.”

“Elrond had you call me because you knew how to manipulate me, isn’t that right?” Thranduil accused and Legolas frowned in stony silence, “Ha! Now it comes to this after all these years and centuries. My own son, or who calls himself my son, has sunken to manipulate me in the everlasting game of politics.”

The mental dam that Legolas had built to keep his emotions in check was starting to break, he could feel it. Anger was building up in him, hot swift anger that he hadn’t felt since the last time he talked to his father. Though he had forgotten what was the real reason of their estrangement he still couldn’t believe that his father was bashing him verbally after all these years.

“You seem to be better at that game of politics,” he replied coldly, “controlling Silver City, letting your minions do all your work while you hang around in such a posh office space, sipping _miruvor_ and having your former Guard General Erdaliel play secretary.”

“Then why don’t you try taking some responsibility you disobedient son!” Thranduil yelled.

“Up yours,” was his swift reply as he let deep anger and resentment fill in his voice.

“How dare you… You…you ungrateful bastard!”

“Oh I dare because all I see here is a sniveling egocentric little Elf who runs his corporation with a stranglehold and letting the world rot its way to Hell!” Legolas nearly shouted, not really paying attention to the fact that Glorfindel and just about most of the Elves in the whole Situation Room had gone silent, some fiddling with equipment in obvious embarrassment, others just staring at him as they he and Thranduil sparred.

“You were an embarrassment, abandoning your realm just so that you can sail the Great Sea,” his father replied and Legolas decided that he had enough of this. Nothing was going to be resolved with their fighting…

He turned and was about to take off his headset-

“Don’t you turn your back on me, you son of a bitch.”

Spinning back around he pitted the man whom he had formerly called Father with a glare, “I’m sure Morsantiel, my Mother, would have loved to be called a ‘bitch’.”

Throwing the headset off, he stalked away from the communication console, not seeing the shocked and apologetic look on his father’s face, and walked angrily passed the Elves gathered around the projected map, all of them quiet. He could feel their stares on him, but he didn’t care.

“Legolas-“

“He’s sending one-thousand each, one for the White City, the other for the Golden City,” Legolas replied curtly before brushing past Glorfindel. If there was only one thing that he knew he could trust, was the fact that his ‘father’ was true to his word and would send those troops out in the fastest time. Walking out of the Situation Room, Legolas headed towards the floor where he had seen the sign for a library.

He had to go to someplace quiet to think…to sort his angry thoughts out.


	15. Comrades

Finding the library wasn’t as hard as Legolas thought it would be, as he took the elevator up two floors and then exited once again into the lands of gold and silver trees, invisible winds blowing dried and paper leaves this way and that. Following the signs that pointed him to the library, he pushed open a set of wooden oak doors with more embroidered gold leaves on them and skidded to a stop as he took in the magnificence of the library that he didn’t believe could be housed in such a building like this.

It was like walking into a museum; with at least hundreds if not thousands of books piled everywhere, fresco pictures decorating the ceiling and walls, lamps dating from in the human years of the early 20th Century. It gave it an ancient, yet modern feel as holo-terminals were sporadically placed in between various bookshelves. He walked in, examining a few of the shelves. He remembered with some embarrassment when he was very young he had come to the library in Rivendell and spent three days pouring over the history books, only coming out with a glazed look and at least too much information stored in his head.

He loved information and was curious about everything, but he had vowed to himself never to bury himself in piles of books ever again, lest only one or two random readings. Spotting couches in the corner between a few bookshelves and terminals, he flopped himself down onto them, closing his eyes as he tried to let his mind wander. He had to get out of the Situation Room, he had to sort out his anger…he…

“And here I thought Elves were always graceful,” a deep voice spoke from behind and Legolas opened his eyes, “this one seems to have lost that grace…”

He was about to snap back a reply when he paused at the tone of the voice. Though the voice was a complete foreign sound to him, as he didn’t recognize the voice, there was certain gruffness, a certain tinge of sarcasm laced with the warmth of friendship…something he hadn’t heard since he had crossed to the Undying Lands…

Spinning around, he looked _up_ at the tall figure of a man, dressed in a coffee-colored tweed suit, black-rimmed glasses on his face, framing his thin figure. If he hadn’t known of the Reincarnation he would have asked whom this person was, but he recognized Gimli anywhere, especially since keeping an eye on the man for the last thirty years, though infrequently.

“Gimli!” he sprang up from his seat and bear hugged his long lost friend, noting with some irony that the once short dwarf was now just about the same height as him.

“Good to see you again laddie, it’s been too long,” Gimli replied, thumping him on the back with still the force of a battle hardened dwarf. Legolas had forgotten how it felt like and nearly got the wind choked out of him.

As he stepped back he looked his best friend over. Thin, and ever more looking like the eager treasure hunter, with the exception of the glasses that somehow made him look more like a professor than a treasure hunter or geologist, a thick mop of reddish brown hair decorated Gimli’s head and bright brown eyes were magnified by those glasses.

“You haven’t changed,” he commented with a grin.

“Neither you, though I don’t except Elves to change at all,” Gimli replied, “by the way, the name is George Griston in Reincarnated terms.”

“You’re still Gimli in my books,” Legolas shrugged, “by the way, how did you get here?”

“The twins, Elladan and Elrohir, swung by after picking up the Hobbits, excuse me, the Reincarnated Hobbits, though they had a couple of Wraiths on their tail. Don’t worry,” Gimli grinned, “being fully aware that I was a former dwarf since I was born gave me a few advantages. Shot down those Wraiths like they were skeet in the air.”

“Uh…how…”

“When you’ve traveled as much as me, laddie, you see and use different techniques to get rid of Mages,” Gimli shook his head then gestured for them to sit, “though I had a feeling that things were going to get interesting.”

“Elrond never told me that you had your memories of your previous life back…I was going to check on you,” Legolas frowned.

“And check on me you did,” Gimli leaned back and pulled out a pipe but did not light it, “I thank you for stopping by in those infrequent times that you did.”

“You knew?!”

“I told you, being aware since birth has a few advantages,” the former dwarf quirked a small smile, “Elves have a certain footstep and yours are very distinctive.”

“Oh…great,” Legolas looked at his friend wirily, “if I knew that I’d change my steps.”

“So then,” Gimli took the pipe out of his mouth and looked forlornly at it before sticking it back in, “ why the storming in? You seemed angry at something or someone.”

“Oh that,” he frowned, “the usual with my father, you know…same old things that happened when I received Ithilien as my domain.”

“Ah,” Gimli dug into the pockets of his tweed jacket but then took his hands out empty and grumbled something underneath his breath. Legolas knew that the former dwarf wanted to smoke but to do it in a library was impolite. “When’s the last time you talked?”

“About four to five thousand years, give or take a few.”

The pipe dropped from Gimli’s opened surprised mouth and he spluttered before picking up the pipe once more and jammed it back into his mouth. “Four to five- you have some serious familial issues.”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Legolas replied a bit sarcastically. “I had to call him, a few minutes ago, to persuade him to send troops and he called me an irresponsible son and called my dead mother a bitch, how’s that for a father figure.”

Gimli was silent for the most part and Legolas rubbed his eyes, irritated at his father.

“Well…maybe the two of you should…apologize?”

Taking his hand away from his eyes, Legolas stared at his friend incredulously, “Ha! Apologize? To him? What kind of warped lembas have you’ve been eating lately? I am not apologizing to that Elf, no he’s not an Elf, he’s a man, for his stuck up sense of pride.”

“Hey, I’m resenting that comment, _Elf_ ,” Gimli growled and Legolas suddenly looked chaste as he realized what he had said.

“Sorry,” he quickly apologized, “I keep forgetting that you’re not a dwarf anymore…”

“It’s okay,” Gimli shrugged, “apology accepted. Just-“

“Excuse me,” a new voice spoke from behind them and Legolas turned to see an Elf dressed in robes reminiscent of Elven clothing from long ago, “I bring word from Lord Elrond. He wishes for the Fellowship to convene in the council chamber at the moment.”

“Is that the chamber that looks like Rivendell?” Legolas asked, not really sure what the Elf meant by the council chamber.

“Uh…yes Prince Legolas,” the Elf looked slightly baffled but then recovered quickly.

“All right, we’ll be on our way,” he stood up, just as Gimli did and once again was surprised at how tall his best friend was now…and knew that it would take him a while to get used to his friend’s new height.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes…this is a slight Legolas-centric fic. But don’t worry; it’ll expand to the other characters as the chapters go on. Also for those who have not read my other LoTR fic, Pastime Promises, Memories, there are a few character references and situations mention in this whole fic (a.k.a. the library-book situation…) ^_^


	16. Fellowship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Key:  
> […] – Elvish words

Alec arrived in the council chamber room just footsteps before Legolas and the Reincarnated Gimli did. Though he at first did not recognize the former dwarf, only after being briefly introduced in his short time in the medical ward, did he realize that George Griston the caretaker of the Museum of Natural History and world-renowned geologist was actually Gimli. It was ironic and funny for him to think that the former dwarf became one of the tallest members of the Reincarnated Fellowship, even taller than him, yet still had the same sense of honor, duty, and comradeship of the dwarf that he once was.

He had received a clean bill of health after the Elves in the medical ward treated all of them for their injuries received by the Nazgul, Undead, and Orcs that had attacked them on their way of escaping the Black City. Though bandages still covered the scars and cuts of the attacks along with various magical burns he felt fit and healthy, as if he had just woken up from a refreshing nap.

Though he couldn’t say the same for Ben as the other man, still pale, looked much better than he had been before. The Elves had said that they had severed the link between Ben and the Undead that had touched him, but Alec wasn’t too keen on their word, as Ben still looked extremely pale. He had exited the medical ward and had gone looking for Anna before a messenger came to him and told him that Elrond was summoning all of them.

Though the concept of him being the Reincarnation of Aragorn, King Elessar of the Reunited Lands still was fresh in his mind, he felt a familiar ease settle within him, giving him the confidence to see things through. It was a confidence and a sense of deep familiarity that kept him from freaking out seeing gold and silver trees along with leaves falling every once in a while, along with other Elves, almost all who were golden-haired walking around, some dressed in clothing that was reminiscent of the Third Age, others in business suits, talking on cell-phones, comm systems, or watch-links. Though the familiarity was there, it was still a bit unnerving to see technology and archaic forms come together, especially if one Elf was dressed in the clothes of the old, talking to another Elf dressed in a modern business suit with a cropped hair, dyed with streaks of red.

As he took his seat in one of the empty chairs in the council chamber, he noticed that the whole place looked like it was reminiscent of Rivendell, right down to the oddly shaped chairs. He wondered if it was a giant holographic projection, but shoved the thought out of his mind as he noticed Anna, sitting next to a beautiful Elven woman with long blonde hair gathered up in a bun with a few tresses hanging down. He also noticed that Anna had changed out of her uniform and was now wearing a beautiful dress, a deep dark red color that accented her grey eyes, pale complexion, and long brown hair. The sight of her mesmerized him…

He was thrown out of the trance as two figures thumped down into seats next to him and he turned to his left and right to see two very identical smiling faces…both Elves… They looked vaguely familiar until it hit him where he knew two identical Elves…Lord Elrond’s twin sons, Elladan and Elrohir.

A very bad feeling began to settle in his stomach. In his past life he had traveled with the twins as he rode with the Rangers of the north as Strider, and even then the twins were fanatical about killing Orcs and such dark creatures, for reasons he didn’t really know why, but they were hyper…

And with the smiles the two were wearing at the moment, he had a feeling that they hadn’t changed a bit.

“Otorno! Glad to see you awake!” one of the twins, Elladan he kind of remembered said, slinging an arm around his shoulder.

“You gave Dad a good scare you know…and our poor little Reincarnated sister. You shouldn’t do that, you know?” Elrohir said, slinging his arm around Alec’s other shoulder.

“Uh…good to see you again,” he shrugged the arms off of his shoulder, “uh…”

“Oh, that’s our mom, Celebrian, sitting next to Arwen-sorry, Anna, don’t worry about her, they’re talking girl stuff, yuck,” Elrohir made a face before grinning again, “anyways, we’ve decided to become your personal translators in case you don’t understand Elvish, ne?”

“Here, try this: [ _He looks so out of it…maybe we should ruffle him up a bit._ ] Did you understand that?” Elladan asked and Alec frowned.

The Elvish had sounded like waters running through stone, peaceful and melodic and though he didn’t understand it as Elladan spoke it, it slowly came to him, the understanding and translation. He glared at the twins, “[ _No thank you. I don’t need to be ‘ruffed’ up._ ]” He replied in a halting Elvish, surprising the twins.

“Wow,” Elrohir exclaimed, “that was quicker than what Anna had…aw shucks, can’t translate anymore since he understands…woe is me-“

The clearing of a throat behind all of them brought all of their heads around to see Glorfindel staring down at them with disapproving eyes. Though Alec barely recognized the Eldar due to his still slightly jumbled memories he did begin to remember certain aspects of the Eldar. When he had been Aragorn, he had been trying to lead the Hobbits to Rivendell, running from the Nazgul. Glorfindel had met them near the River Bruinen and had put Frodo upon his horse Asfaloth. Though the memory was still a bit fuzzy at places, he knew for certain that the Elf was more than he appeared…

“Oh…hi Glorfindel!” the slightly strained cheer in Elrohir and Elladan’s double voice was enough to bring a smile to Alec’s face.

“Are they bothering you, Alec Richard?” Glorfindel ignored them and addressed him.

The strained smile on the twins face suddenly evaporated into puppy-eyed looks directed at him. They were mentally begging him not to let Glorfindel take them away…if it wasn’t almost the start of the council meeting, he would have laughed heartily. “Uh…no, they’re not a problem. Just reminiscing about old times,” he replied then gave twin a glare that warned them not to push it.

They eagerly nodded to his glare then turned to Glorfindel and smiled cherubically and the Eldar left, shaking his head and muttering something that sounded like something about Elves and the Third Age.

“I have gathered all of you here because of a grave importance,” Elrond’s voice suddenly boomed out, startling Alec as he spun around and paid attention. He watched as Elrond’s deep grey-eyed gaze caught every one of the Fellowship and other people’s gazes.

Alec noticed that four humans who looked to be in their twenties or younger were sitting next to each other, Gandalf sitting next to them in his white robe and staff a stark contrast to the four men’s garishly college clothing. He realized with a start that the four men were the Reincarnated Hobbits…all of them having hints of who they were in their past lives. He was able to identify and separate Frodo, Sam, Pippin, and Merry from each other…

Next to the Hobbits on his perspective right as Gandalf was sitting at the end of the semi-circled chairs, was George Griston and Legolas, a grim looking Haldir, Frank, Liz who looked to be in a better condition, but still wearing a few strips of bandages, her brother Edward, Ben, and Elladan who was giving curiously worried looks to the man next to him. Elrohir was still smiling cheerful to Alec’s left and next to him sat two grim-faced Elves he didn’t know, then Glorfindel who whispered briefly into the ear of a female Elf he didn’t know, then Anna and Celebrian, both looking as ever, serene and calm.*

“You of the Fellowship and key members were allowed to retain previous memories of your former lives with the intention of saving yourselves. The return of not one, but two Dark Lords has triggered these events in which you have been born to. Sauron and Morgoth have allied themselves with each other and to Saruman creating a Triumvirate of evil,” Elrond said just as one of the three humans sitting in the front stood up, walking to the middle and stood in front of a small table that Alec guessed was probably a holo-projector table of sorts.

The man wore pure white robes that seemed not to have even a smidge of dust or dirt on it, and long white hair that hung down. Though Alec would have thought that the man looked a lot like Gandalf, the exception was that he wasn’t even sure the man was even a man. Neither was he sure of the two other women who were sitting up front.

A silvery-white sheen seemed to paint the man’s face, but his bright, extremely bright pale green eyes were inhuman…unnatural…unearthly…

“In time, even now,” the bright pale green-eyed ‘being’ started in a melodic thought haunted sub-rattling voice, “you will regain the memories of how ever many past lives you had lived. I am called Lorien Irmo, of the Valar, Master of Dreams.”

The gasp of surprise from all the Elves in the room save Elrond was quiet and hushed and Alec rattled his brain. The term Valar sounded familiar…

“Begging your pardon, Mr. Irmo-“

“Lorien will do fine, Franklin Greens.”

“-Lorien, then, but aren’t the Valar supposed to be the so called gods of the world, or something of that nature?”

“In your human terms, yes. But then you can call certain humans gods, no? Can you can call Elves, immortal, as they are, gods? The concept of what is God and what isn’t, is fickle, yet we are not gods as we are gods. We have ‘godly’ powers, we create and protect, but like humans, we are only those that have ideals and creativity,” Lorien replied, “We are only, the Valar, servants of Eru, Iluvatar, the Creator. We have brethren beneath us, the Maiar, and we guide the fates of the Children of Iluvatar.”

“Which would be us, wouldn’t it, Lorien?” Fred suddenly spoke from his seat and Alec turned to regard the young man who had a curious expression on his face, “which means, if Morgoth has been released from his prison in the Void, being of a Valar he is, means he is attempting or has attempted to manipulate us, the Children of Iluvatar.”

“Perceptive, young human,” Lorien replied then raked his gaze across all others. Alec felt his skin chill slightly at the gaze of the Valar…this ‘god’ wasn’t someone to play mind games with…

“Using his treacherous ways, he summoned the spirit of Sauron, almost completely faded away, and once again stretched his hand forth to control and plunge the world into a chaotic evil spurned place. But there are some of the Valar who have fought to stop his advancement once more. There are also some who have fallen to Sauron’s calling, Mandos my brother and the Lord of the Dead, has become cunning, manipulative and deceitful.

“Releasing the spirit of Sauron to Morgoth before the appointed time of fading in which Manwe, the Lord of all Valar, had commanded, Mandos betrayed us. The balance of power has shifted as stated in the prophecies of Doom,

###  _**A test of Will…** _

_**A test of Courage…** _

_**A test of Time…** _

_**The trials of Technomages;** _

_**the trials of Vernomages;** _

_**the trials of those who live** _

_**For the Shadow that remains,** _

_**the Shadow that haunts all…** _

_**the last battle to prove worthiness…** _

_**The Fellowship has been reawakened…** _

_**Of the Shadows that Remain,** _

####  _One to Rule them All_

“It is also said,

That before the last battle Melkor will find a way to break the Doors of Night and destroy Tillion and Arien; and for the love of those will Eonwe seek him out. In that final terrible battle, where Tulkas, Turin, and Earendil take part, the world will be utterly broken.**

_In the 20_ _th_ _Age of the Sun, the Moon rises to dawn and the new join with the old – the Fellowship awakened, and of the Shadows that remain, One to Rule them All._

“That Shadow, is Morgoth, but in irony, he does not think that you, the Fellowship pose such a huge threat. It is to Firstborn, Valar, and Maiar he seeks vengeance. But his lieutenant and ally, Sauron, wants you dead. That is why the Nazgul have been resurrected, that is why you, Captain Franklin of the New York Police Department have found nine random humans captured during in seemingly unrelated cases of kidnapping,” Lorien said gravely.

“Children, men, women… _David_ …” Frank muttered quietly, but loudly enough that Alec was reminded of their escape from the Witch-King…who had been interestingly deterred from attacking by the mere presence of Glorfindel. He gave a sideways glance at the Eldar, but there was no emotion written on the Elf’s face.

“So then,” Phillip suddenly spoke up, “what do you want us to do, destroy another ring?”

The glares from the three other men sitting around Phil along with rolling eyes from some of the Elves in the room was enough to shut the former Hobbit up. He gave a shrug then sat back in his seat, pouting slightly. “What? It was just a question…”

“On the contrary, Master Theatum,” the clear musical, but slightly sorrowful voice of one of the two women sitting in the seats facing them, said and Alec watched as she stood up, willowy and graceful. Her dress was as grey as Anna’s eyes and no jewels glittered her as the other woman had worn. Her expression was one of sadness, but her eyes, glittered with knowledge. Two speckled small jewels were encrusted into her face, just beneath the corner of her left eye, like little tears that looked like stars. Her raven black hair framed her pale face, but she still glowed as almost brightly as Lorien, if not dimmed a little.

Alec had a feeling that the sorrowful expression on the woman’s face was permanent and there was little to no happiness in her life.

“I am Nienna the Weeper, Mistress of Death, and on the contrary, Master Theatum, there is no One Ring forged in the 20th Age of the Sun. The Rings of power have long faded from history,” she said, looking at each of them with her forlorn eyes, but holding the gaze of Phil the longest as she had addressed his question.

“We, of the Valar who keeping fighting against Melkor, Morgoth in your tongue, from harming the world, ask that you of the Fellowship, and the _Fellowship_ alone,” her tone took a slightly steeled edge, “to slay Sauron.”

Silence greeted her announcement and Alec blinked, staring at her for a few seconds, his mind furiously processing what she had said. She and the Valar wanted the Fellowship to what? To kill Sauron? To eliminate one of the most powerful enemies he had faced, even in the Third Age when they had almost lost if not for the strength of two hobbits, Frodo and Sam. And now, just like that, the Valar wanted them to assassinate Sauron?

“Killing him is easier said than done,” Ben spoke gruffly from his seat.

“But to kill him is easier done than said, Master Benjamin,” the other woman now stood up from her seat. Her voice was regal and held no fear, powerful and deep. Wavy brown hair framed her face and pooled down in tresses down her long dark red dress that was weaved through with various hints of colors. Her bright purple eyes framed her sun-kissed skin and she held herself up like a queen.

“Vaire the Weaver, the fabric of time and history are in my hands,” she introduced herself with a small nod, “Sauron, of what history has been woven, is only human, an Irimage, nothing more nothing less. He is not the terrifying Maia you once fought against, but he does hold a great deal of evil in him. Since his spirit had been nearly faded and destroyed, he has been brought back only to become an Irimage, nothing more.”

“If that, then why us? Why not someone else?” Sam spoke up and Alec nodded his head slightly, agreeing with the former hobbit. If Sauron was just an Irimage, why them? Why couldn’t they go after the ‘bigger fish’ so to speak? Why not let an Elf Army deal with Sauron.

“Sauron will not be expecting you to return to the Black City as that is his stronghold, remodeled into a modern Mordor, he will expect you to flee or to seek the protection of the Elves. He will be concentrating his forces on the Golden City, besieging it in order to flush you out,” Elrond stood from his seat as the three Valar took theirs and the Elf activated the holo-projector, dimming the lights.

* * *

Legolas recognized the projection that came up. It was almost the same as the projection in the Situation Room, filled with the same dots and landscapes, except this was smaller in size than the one in the Situation Room.

“Sauron hunts all of you because of what he fears you may become, another threat to him. He knows of your potential to bring him to ruin once more, and though he has the skills of an Irimage, he is no more than mortal. We will make it so that you are still here in the Golden City when he attacks,” Elrond explained but Legolas still doubted the whole plan…

“But what about Morgoth?” Alec suddenly spoke up, mostly silent for the whole time. “If he is the one controlling Sauron, why not kill the source of evil?”

“Not all evil exist from Morgoth, Alec Richard,” Elrond replied, “humans have created their own evil, in the existence of Irimages. Elves have created their evil in the forms of corrupted beings called Orcs. All who live, breathe, and give live on Earth have their counterparts of evil.”

“Morgoth is of a spirit form as we speak,” Lorien stood up gracefully, “he needs a body to inhabit and using Sauron as his puppet, is able to achieve that. To slay Sauron at this time is to render Morgoth unable to possess. He will not possess a lesser being as Sauron is the most powerful Irimage there is at the moment.”

“You’ll have to give us some time to think about this, you know…after all, like you said, we’re only human,” Alec replied wirily and Legolas quirked a small smile at the man’s tenacity. The personality of Aragorn and Alec Richard was certainly an interesting combination.

“He, Morgoth and all that is evil will be destroyed. The Alliance of Humans, Elves, Maiar, and Valar will be reinstated,” Lorien spoke softly but gravely from his seat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * = To see a map of where each of the council peeps sit, please go to: www.freewebs.com/greycity [[Updated note: not sure if this website exists anymore]]
> 
> ** = This prophecy was taken from The Silmarillion


	17. Decision

Anna prided herself on keeping her cool in difficult situations, but she had never imagined that meeting her ‘family’ once more would be more than difficult…it was a momentous task. Elrond had dispersed the council as the meeting ended and the various members of the Fellowship had congregated around each other, and were quietly talking to each other, each making their own decision of the mission laid before them.

She was worried, not for the Fellowship in general, but for Alec. He had been very adamant and not too happy that the Fellowship had been chosen to take out Sauron…and what were the Valar and her father-no, Elrond wasn’t her father, her _real_ father died when she was younger, fighting for the United States Air Force over in Mexico, keeping the rebels in line. Right now, Elrond was just…her guardian, she hazard a guess.

What were the Valar and Elrond thinking? Sending the Fellowship out to the heart of the evil in the Black City. Were they crazy or something? Or was it just another form of suicide. She could tell, as she was really good at reading emotions, that Elrond didn’t really like Alec since they had arrived after being rescued by Glorfindel and his motley crew of Elves. Was it something to do with the past, with the fact that she, as Arwen, had made her decision to become mortal, and he attributed that to Alec’s fault?

If that was so, then it was pure bull. If it wasn’t, then Anna didn’t really know what to think. But she knew that of one rational thought she had was that Alec had changed. It seemed that as time passed, even when she had watched over him during the Elves’ healing process, that his Reincarnation of Aragorn and his own quirky persona that she had come to love and adore, were merging into something new…something that had the old Alec Richard who was the obedient and confident police officer, to more of a natural born leader.

She still sat in her seat, watching the Fellowship talk amongst themselves. She would be staying here if they decided to go ahead and follow through with the Valar and Elrond’s plans…along with Liz, Edward, and Frank. Glancing over to the three other humans she noticed that Ed was in a particular deep thought, while Liz and Frank were whispering to each other.

The other Elves that had been at the meeting were congregated in a group of their own, Elrond with them, all of them pouring over the holographic map. The Valar that had been sitting in the front seemed to be staring off into their own worlds, maybe in deep thought or telepathically communication, she did not know for sure.

“Anna?” the gentle touch of the Elf that had sat next to her…Celebrian was her name, and she had been Arwen’s mother, startled her from her thoughts and she turned to face the beautiful blonde-haired lady.

“I’m sorry…were you saying something?” she asked politely. It wasn’t hard to be polite to the Elven lady as her form and poise demanded that there be no roughness in talking to her.

“No, no,” Celebrian smiled gently, making her brilliant glow seem brighter, “you seemed troubled dear, is something the matter?”

If there were perfect angels in the world, then Celebrian would be one, Anna decided, as the Elven lady, ever since she had met her, never infringed upon the fact that she was Arwen’s mother, or even seemed to imply the fact that Anna herself was indeed Arwen. It made her so loved and adored, Anna supposed.

“Nothing…” she started then hesitated before taking a quick glance at Alec who was gesturing with his hands, talking with the former hobbits, now garishly clothed college students, “but…I’m worried…Alec…he’s…changed, different somehow. I think it’s the fact that his memories of his previous life and of now that’s changed him…”

“That’s not all that changed, my dear. You see, he’s a Vernomage, Anna,” Celebrian said softly and Anna blinked then stared back at Alec before turning to face the lady with incredulous eyes.

“A what?”

“Rare these days,” Celebrian said, “but just like you…he’s a natural Vernomage. No Dust or Mage-link within him, he’s a pure latent Mage, though he does not know that yet…”

“Then…that shield…” Anna remembered Alec telling her about how when he had rescued David from the hands of the Wilder and then somehow David sprang a shield up to protect them…

“Yes,” Celebrian nodded, her bright hazel eyes sparkling, “it wasn’t the Nazgul David, it was he that protected himself. Remember, in the hands of kings, they are of a healer. But, please, Anna, do not tell him of this…he’s not ready yet…”

“Ready? As in mentally?” Anna asked.

“No…he’s not ready, and at this stage, he will be killed if the others find out,” the Elven lady said sadly.

“The others? You mean the Nazgul or Sauron?” Anna asked.

“Yes,” Celebrian replied, “he must build his strength, let his latent talents be put to work before he can face the real opposition.”

“Morgoth, then.”

“You are perceptive, just as Galadriel had said…” Celebrian gave her a small smile.

Anna returned the smile and for some odd reason, a heavy feeling that had been weighing her down was lifted.

* * *

Hours later, they all stood on the platform where Elladan and Elrohir were warming up the hover-copter, readying to take them back to the Black City, back to the heart of evil. They had all agreed on after at least two hours of debating back and forth with each other, the college-hobbits neutral to the whole discussion, Gandalf for going back to the Black City, Alec adamantly refusing to go back to the Black City, Ben agreeing with him, and Gimli for going back to the city.

There had been an unusual gleam in the former dwarf’s eyes, and Legolas poked at those gleaming eyes until Gimli relented and told them that he had a stash of highly illegal weapons that he had smuggled in from other countries during his various expeditions, weapons that were designed to kill Mages and other unsightly beings.

That had turned the tide of the so called votes…the college students were now for going back to the Black City to as they put it “kick some serious ass”, but that had also got onto Alec and Ben’s bad side.

Both almost throttled the taller man for saying that he possessed illegal weapons, but Gandalf interfered at the last moment, reasoning with them that they were the two humans who knew the city like the back of their hand, and thereby would be able to get them through the city relatively unharmed and safe.

Which meant that Sauron wouldn’t be able to find them if they knew the short cuts and such throughout the city. That had convinced them somewhat, but even now, as they were saying the last of their goodbyes, Legolas could see that Alec and Ben still had reservations about doing the whole mission. But he knew that Alec would see the mission through if given to him. Ben, he wasn’t too sure of.

Legolas didn’t really have anyone to say a farewell too, since he had already chatted with Rinaran, formerly the leader of the Rivendell Swordmaidens, who was surprisingly sitting in on the briefing, and he had yet to see Haldir who hadn’t said a word to him ever since he had left the Situation Room in a fit of anger. The White City Elf was as quiet as a mouse and there seemed to be a troubled expression on his face.

Gimli was off chatting with the twins, the three of them laughing at some joke, Alec saying his goodbye to Anna, the former hobbits seemingly annoying the guards who monitored everyone that came in and out of the building, Gandalf talking with the Valar in human form, Lorien (whom which Legolas still couldn’t believe would be at the meeting and even talked to them), Ben talking with his brother Frank, Ed, and Liz.

He wandered over to where the four young men were chatting amicably with the guards and was about to pull them away when he spotted Haldir, walking at a clipped pace, towards him.

“Hi,” he greeted his friend, noticing the somber expression on his face, “something the matter?”

“Lady Galadriel,” Haldir began a bit formally that Legolas frowned, something was definitely wrong, he could tell, “told me to give this specific mission to you, alone.

“Sauron is an Irimage, as you know, but with just the Fellowship departing on this mission, only you and Gandalf are the only Mages within this group. You must be ready to kill Sauron,” Haldir explained and Legolas looked at him, confused.

“Why?” he asked before the reasoning hit him.

“You’re the only one, save Gandalf who is able to absorb such a great amount of power if Sauron were to be killed. The others could injure him, but you have to be the one to give the finishing blow or else the power transfer would kill the others and that would leave Sauron with the possibility to be resurrected by Morgoth as an Undead.”

“Why not Gandalf?” Legolas asked and Haldir shook his head.

“Lorien and Gandalf have their own reasons for what I do not know, but what I do know is the fact that Gandalf will help you on this mission as a member of the Fellowship, but he will not absorb Sauron’s powers into himself. Lady Galadriel speculated that it was the possibility of being tainted from Maiar to Maiar.”

“So then I’m expendable,” Legolas stated flatly and frowned.

“In ways, but you can be killed by the absorption,” Haldir took a deep breath before plunging on, “Elrond and the other leaders have not dared sent Elves into the heart of the Black City for the reason being that Sauron sooner slaughter them and convert them to be his minions before any of you. He recognizes the Fellowship for its power, and he knows that you’ll be coming for him, but he’s grown overconfident, with his expansion and control over the Nine and that of the denizen of the Black City. He won’t be expecting you to attack him, which gives you an advantage.”

“It’s a thin line that Lady Galadriel and the others are playing on,” Legolas observed wirily and Haldir quirked a small grin at the attempt of levity.

“For the Elves, and for some humans, it’s always been a thin line,” his best friend shrugged.

“All right,” Legolas sighed, running a hand through his blonde hair, “tell Lady Galadriel that I will not fail, but only because as you have said, Sauron is an Irimage, and with that magnitude of power in him, the others cannot absorb lest be killed on the spot.”

There were no words passed between the two friends, but a simple clap on each of their shoulder was enough to convey the worry and strength of their friendship. Legolas nodded once before turning and heading back to the hover-copter, not noticing the look of curiousness that Gimli gave to him before clambering up into the hover-copter.

* * *

Alec gently stroked a finger down the side of Anna’s cheek, tracing her face as he stared deep into her grey eyes. He felt like he was going away for a long time and he needed to absorb her image into his mind, the curves of her lips, the shape of her eyes, the twinkle and sadness that glittered in those grey irises.

He noticed that tears were pooling in the corner of her eyes and gave her a faint smile, “Hey, why the tears?”

“I…don’t know,” she replied, blinking the tears away suddenly, “I just feel that I’m…not going to see you again.”

“Anna,” he tilted her chin, “don’t say that. Of course we’ll see each other again. This isn’t like all the other police work we had to do.”

“I know it isn’t…I mean you’re going off to…kill Sauron, while I’m stuck here,” she grinned as tears began falling down her face, but that grin was wavering and Alec let go of her chin and embraced her fiercely, breathing in her scent. He could feel her tears soak through his clothing as she cried.

“Don’t worry,” he whispered into her ears, “I’ll come back, safe.”

There was the movement of a nod against his shoulder before he released her. Staring once more into those haunting grey eyes that he had come to love and adore, he bent down and kissed her gently on the lips. The kiss not of passion, but of a touching goodbye, a farewell until later. A farewell for until the mission is done and the promise of more kisses when he came back.

After a few seconds, he stepped back and stared at her for a long moment before looking up beyond her to where Elrond was standing with his wife Celebrian. There was no emotion written on the Elven Lord’s face, but Celebrian was smiling radiantly and he gave them a curt nod before turning on his heel and walking towards the hover-copter, noticing that the twins, Elladan and Elrohir were giving him thumbs up signs while also making kissing faces.

Ignoring them, he shook his head in amusement and climbed up, taking his seat next to Phil who was check his pockets and pulled out what looked to be a fresh wrapped lembas bread and began eating it. Certainly being college kids who were no less Reincarnated Hobbits did not change their appetite at all.

Gandalf was the last one to climb aboard the copter and as the twins were warming up the vehicle, he saw Elrohir holding a green jar with words written on it.

“Hey Anna!” Elrohir called out of the co-pilot window he was sitting in and Alec watched, curiously as Anna approached, a puzzled expression on her face. “Catch!” Elrohir dropped the green jar and Anna caught it then turned it and Alec watched as her expression turned from one of puzzlement to that of irritation.

“ _Ashes of former highjackers_?” she said incredulously and Alec sighed in exasperation as she walked away with the jar, muttering what looked to be obscenities against the twins.

But he had to admit, as they lifted off, the twins knew when to break up such a tension moment with their kind of weird, maybe even perverse humor. As Alec settled into his seat for the ride back to the Black City, he couldn’t help but wonder if sending the Fellowship to kill Sauron was even in the least bit of whatever scrap of sanity anyone had left.


	18. Black City

A quiet patter of rain spat upon the windows and body of the hover-copter, not loud enough to be heard over the slight whine of the engines, but loud enough to be warranted with a few streaks of lightening. A storm was brewing over the Black City, and Legolas had a feeling that the storm was created by Mages, maybe preparing an army to send against the Golden City, or maybe to face off against them.

“Elladan, take us to the Museum of Natural History,” Gimli called over the din of the engines and rain.

“Roger that Gimli-man!” Elladan replied, giving them a thumbs up from his helmet dark pilot’s visor down grinning face before turning around and banking the controls. They soared into the mass of storm that was spewing out lightening and high winds.

“Hey, how come you don’t call Gimli, sorry, George-“

“Gimli’s fine, Phil.”

“Anyways, Elladan, how come you don’t call Gimli, G-man or something like that?” Phil asked and Legolas raised an eyebrow at the hobbits and saw a bemused expression appear on Gandalf’s face.

“Shush up,” Matt elbowed Phil in the ribs, “can’t you see they’re trying to pilot us through this storm?”

“Sorry…it was just a question…” Phil muttered, glaring down at the metal belly of the copter.

“Nope,” Elladan’s voice came back, a hint of strain in it as Legolas noticed that the twins were wrestling with the controls, trying to keep the copter aloft in the buffeting winds, “Gandalf is known…as the G-man…”

“Can’t…call Gimli old boy that…” Elrohir replied in a more strained voice, “he’s not as…holy mother @#$%#!”

Flashes of lightening punctuated the explicative that rattled from the Elf’s mouth and deep rumbles of thunder as the copter suddenly rocked around. Grabbing onto a hand hold in the copter, Legolas was thrown violently against the side, just as Phil’s weight crashed upon him, the former hobbit had not grabbed onto a perch.

The copter buckled violently for a few more seconds, but just as it had violently tumbled, they were suddenly flying at a calm pace, descending below the cloud-storm line and the lights that glittered through the Black City shone in all their glory.

Except these lights gave an unpleasant feeling in Legolas’ soul. He felt sickened watching the lights, and felt evil reeking from all different directions. There was more evil than when he had left before, so more that he felt as if he would choke on it. Eerie streaks of red, blue, or whatever color arced from different streets, some reaching high above the storied buildings, others just racing down avenues and alleyways. Mage activity was at an all time high…higher than he had ever seen.

They flew on a course set for the west side of what was once the beautiful green expanse of Central Park, now no more than a haven for Mage gangs who desecrated the area into a filthy blackened wasteland. Grimacing inwardly as they passed overhead, the sight of what used to be such a beautiful park, now just blackened soil from all the Mage activity, it sickened him to see the former park in such a state.

The twins banked around the roof of the Museum of Natural History once before settling in a nice hover mode. Surprisingly, the storm that they had flown through did not give any rain to the ground below and everything was dry save for the few Mages who used water in their magic.

Following Phil out, he landed lightly onto the ground and glanced back up at the twins who gave him a thumbs up sign after Gimli was the last one out, before pulling out of their hover mode and banking a hard right to climb back up into the horrific storm to head back to the Golden City.

“Well now, what do we do?” Ben asked, a bit of sarcasm in his tone.

“We go in and I show you my stash…but,” Gimli gave a wiry look at the two NYPD officers, “you can’t arrest me since you’re going along with this.” Producing a key he opened the roof door and headed in. Suddenly he popped his head back out, a smile on his face, “Better wait a few seconds. I have a nasty guard cat and he doesn’t like strangers.”

Legolas frowned as he remembered Gimli’s so-called guard cat. That thing wasn’t even a proper animal, more like something from the ancient world that no doubt, his best friend had dug up on one of his expeditions. He had a few run ins with the ‘cat’, in actuality, a rare Siberian tiger with a nasty streak of habit to attack anything that moved except for Gimli himself, during his infrequent check-ups on the geologist himself.

A few seconds later they heard some growling and meowing coming up from the stairs before it was silent once more. Gimli appeared, his red hair a bit disheveled, but otherwise the tall man looked quite content. “All clear. Just don’t knock on the door to your left on your way down. Mittens is a bit temperamental.”

“Mittens?!” Alec stared at the taller man incredulously, his jaw opened, “just what the hell you’re keeping in that Museum, Gimli?”

“He’s a Siberian tiger if you must know,” Gimli explained as they cautiously followed him in, Legolas taking the lead as his fingertips crackled with magic lightning. Cat be dammed or not, he was going to fry anything that didn’t resemble Gimli. “One of the two last ones on the Earth,” Gimli explained as he led them through without incident down a few floors and past some old paintings and displays, the life size models of men and women in different time periods eerie against the backdrop of the occasional lightning that shook from the storm, illuminating them. But otherwise, the dim lighting made the shadows crawl all over the place and for the first time since Legolas checked up on his friend, he wondered how Gimli could have lived in such a creepy place as this.

Compared with the Mines of Moria, Moria was just a walk in the park, except the only thing, Legolas hoped, that this place didn’t crawl with Mages or Orcs.

“Ah, here we are,” Gimli announced, bringing them to a room that was reminded of the early 1900s, lamps and frames with oil paintings decorating the room. Life-size models and dioramas were scattered throughout the place, and a fireplace with some embers still glowing gave the room a homely feel. It was probably a geologist or archaeologist paradise. “Welcome to my humble abode.”

“Nice digs,” Fred commented, giving a complimentary whistle as the college kids immediately began exploring the book shelves and models, careful as not to touch anything that might break, but still curious nonetheless.

“All right Gimli, where is it?” the commanding and accusatory tone in Ben’s voice was evident as still the police officer side of Ben won out from the Reincarnated side of Boromir.

“I’m just getting to that,” Gimli looked irritated, “sheesh…can’t even give a humble geologist some credit here.” He walked over to a corner of a large desk that was littered with papers and artifacts, along with a few magnifying glasses and different variety of microscopes and holo-scopes. Pressing something, the chairs that were in the room began to suddenly morph into different shapes…shapes that resembled smuggling compartments Legolas had seen smugglers use when they came into the city. Each compartment popped open and held out a display of an assortment of weapons that made his eyebrows rise.

He had never seen that many illegal weapons all in one place. Ones that can kill Mages without the necessary power transfer, Mage-shield piercing weapons, swords, daggers, bows, bazookas, hand-held shield packs, and a few hand held missile launchers. They all varied from age to age, some that dated back to the Romantic period of the human race, others as modern as World War III, maybe even beyond that as the black market was a thriving place to make the high tech weapons that was easy to purchase and efficient to handle.

It didn’t look like Ben or Alec had seen so many illegal weapons either, and he noticed with a wiry grin that the two looked as if they were itching to call in their superiors, call off the whole mission and just arrest Gimli on the spot for possessing so many weapons.

“Remember what you said,” Gimli had apparently saw the looks on the two NYPD officer’s faces.

“Yeah, yeah…whatever,” Alec grumbled along with a grunt of affirmation from Ben as the two picked up a few of the weapons and began to check them out.

“Unfortunately, some of the Mage weapons, especially the ones that can kill without the power transfer have been used up. I’m sorry about that, but there were times I had to protect myself from the gangs that just reside out here,” Gimli apologized then picked up a few weapons sitting on another rack and approached the college kids who were just staring at the assortment awestruck and wide-eyed.

Legolas headed over to one of the racks and picked up a small silver handgun. It was similar to the one sitting in his trenchcoat pocket, but he knew that this was a lot more special than that one. Techno-fusing the gun, he molded it into a composite bow, and grinned. This little handgun was the perfect one for him to carry around, nearly unlimited arrows, it was the equivalent of his old Lothlorien built bow that he had received as a gift from Galadriel. That bow was sitting back in his apartment, well guarded and shielded by his own spells. If he were to die, then all that was his was to turn into dust, including his fishes.

Releasing the fuse he had on it, he spun it around his finger a few times then pointed it at a picture, sighting it. Though he could fuse the gun into other weapons, he mostly Techno-fused his weapons into bows, as he was more comfortable in shooting arrows than, say, firing a bazooka or something of that nature.

“Hey Gimli,” he called to the tall man who turned from giving a few handguns and grenades to the college kids, “mind if I take this?”

“Nope, was hoping you take that,” Gimli replied and turned back to explain the weapons he had given to the college kids.

Legolas grinned and pocketed the gun before turning his eyes to some of the more exotic guns that were in the rack. Picking at a few, he examined them then placed them back. A few dusty ones were ancient and didn’t really appeal to him. A part of him felt as if he was at a gun show, ready to purchase a few or other kinds of weapons…

* * *

Though Fred didn’t really like weapons and was very reluctant to pick one up, he had gone along with his friends’ enthusiasm to accompany them to kill Sauron. He didn’t like guns or any weapons because his father and mother, when he was younger, were killed by rogue Wilders. They had guns that supposedly were able to kill Mages instantly without having to worry about the power transfer, except the dealer who had sold them the weapons was nothing but a crook.

The power transfer cooked them alive, leaving him, just a young gawky barely teenaged boy standing there, watching them. His Uncle Bill had taken him in and provided him with care, but the damage had been done.

One night, a few weeks after his Uncle Bill had taken him in, he snuck out of the small apartment and headed down to where the arms dealer had sold his parents the ‘special’ guns. There he found the same dealer scamming another family, but this time he was determined to stop the dealer. Taking a gun that he had swiped from the top of Uncle Bill’s refrigerator he shot and killed the dealer.

But, there was an unforeseen consequence. The dealer was actually a small time Technomage…and it was Fred’s first time encountering a power transfer. He had read that most humans who were non-Mages had faced off against Mages were killed by either the Mage or the power transfer. Oddly, he wasn’t. The transfer didn’t hurt, but for some odd reason it didn’t leave him with any Mage powers as successful power transfers usually did.

He didn’t know what really happened that night, but what he did know was that he stayed away from guns and from anything to do with Mages. He didn’t like their eerie glowing eyes, the white streaks of hair that could not be cut no matter what method was used, and he didn’t want anything to do with magic.

Unfortunately, Columbia University was a hot bed for Mage-wannabes. Techno or Verno, even a few Iri thrown in who were just so low on magic strength that if a non-Mage were to kill them, than the power transfer wouldn’t even do a single damn thing. He had learned to endure the soft glowing eyes and a few strands of white hair, but after running into his three dearest friends, two of whom were his distant cousins, they had taught and distracted him from all of the Mage activity going on.

“Here,” Gimli’s voice directed at him brought Fred out of his musings as he glanced down to where the tall man was holding out a sword in a scabbard towards him, “I’ve been waiting for you to have this.”

“What…is it?” he asked tentatively as he took the sword and unsheathed it, his eyes widening as he saw that it looked very familiar… “Wait…is this Sting?” Memories from his previous life as Frodo Baggins rushed into his head as he held the distinct short sword. He remembered Bilbo giving the Elven wrought blade to him before his journey to destroy the ring. He had drawn it quite a few times, but the only time he had used it was to fend off Shelob in her dark cave.

“No, laddie,” Gimli replied, smiling, “it’s the sister blade to Sting, Stinger. Wrought by Elves, it has the properties of advanced magic in them. It’s able to give a non-magic user the ability to kill others with a bit of magic. Stinger, is preference for ice and water magic, though if you were to kill a real Mage with that, then the power transfer can kill you as any other non-Mage like myself.”

Hefting the sword in his hand, he felt the urge to cut the air with it and swung it a few times, barely missing the hairs of Phil and Sam’s head, making the two cry out in surprise. Another unbidden memory of a previous life he had swam up into his consciousness. He remembered that he had been in the French court of Charles VII, except he had served with the Maiden of Lorraine, Joan D’Arc. He was one of the soldiers who had been D’Arc’s protectors, ever serving at her side, and had also witnessed her burning.

Shaking his head slightly, he banished the roaming thoughts of his previous life from his mind. He needn’t be distracted at the moment. Giving the sword another good swing, he stuck it back inside of its sheath. “It’s a good weapon…” he commented but then adamantly shook his head as Gimli presented him with a gun. “No…thanks.”

“But you can’t fight all of those Orcs or whatever with just your sword,” Gimli said until Sam interceded.

“Gimli, it’s not just that…here, I’ll explain it to you,” Sam pulled the baffled taller man away and Fred nodded gratefully to his best friend.

As Sam explained to Gimli why he didn’t want to hold any gun he looped the sword’s belt around his waist and cinched it tight. Glancing at Phil and Matt he noticed that they were examining a few guns, both sighting down the barrels like professionals. He wondered if in any of their previous lives they were gun experts…

“It’s odd, you know,” Matt started, placing a gun back and picking up another one, “but every time I stare at anything in this room, I keep getting more of my memories back. Like right now, I think I was in one of the wars of the late Fourth Age…something to do with the fall of Rohan or something like that. Before that I think I was a part of the English Civil War…”

“Funny…I remembered being a part of King Arthur’s Knights of the Round Table…and was a…” Phil trailed off as a horrified expression appeared on his face.

“What?” Fred asked.

“N-Never mind…that thought isn’t important,” Phil shook his head, a faint blush erupting on his face.

“Well, it has to be important if you’re going beet red,” Matt teased, grinning, “come on, tell us. We promise not to laugh, right Fred?”

“Right,” Fred managed a small grin, swallowing back the sudden urge to laugh.

“Um…all right,” Phil reluctantly agreed, “remember, you promised… Um…I think one of my previous Reincarnations was that of a geisha in feudal Japan…”

Fred stared at Phil and the laughter that he had been trying to suppress broke loose. He tried to stifle it with a hand, and waved his friend’s glare away from him as Mat, next to him, also broke out into fits of laughter.

“Hey, what’s so funny?” Sam and Gimli approached them and Fred shook his head, and tried to explain, but no words other than laughter came out of his mouth.

“I-It’s just that…Phil here…he’s been a geisha his previous life!” Matt managed to get out, “no wonder he screamed like a girl when we set those fireworks off back at Bilbo’s one-hundred-eleventh birthday party!”

“Oh shut up,” was the grumble from Phil.

* * *

Alec patted his side as he felt the reassuring weight of his new firearm by his side. He followed Gandalf’s lead as the wizard was taking them to the Empire State Building, which he said was the twisted form of Barad-dur, the new home of Sauron. He had asked why couldn’t they let Morgoth inhabit Sauron’s human form, thus making him an Irimage, and then defeat the two of them then, but Gandalf had replied that Morgoth would not be confined to the limits of the human body. If able to possess Sauron’s body, then Morgoth would twist it until the body was no more human, but of a new being…

That had quelled most of the doubts Alec had within him, but he still didn’t like the idea of this ‘suicide mission’. Skirting a deep puddle on the underpass of one of the subway tunnels, Gandalf said that the subways were the easiest and by far less trouble some of the ways to get to the Empire State Building and he had to agree. Though the subways were long gone, it was perhaps one of the safest places to crawl through unnoticed as Mages seldom went down here.

It was where deranged humans inhabited the place, humans who were so deformed by the dank musty and rotted area of the tunnels that they were probably sub-humans. They rarely attacked regular humans and instead feasted on Mages’ powers and Alec knew that Legolas would be a beacon for the sub-humans to come at them.

Which was why the Elf wore a pair of sunglasses to hide most of his bright blue glowing eyes, but even through the shades, he could see hints of blue that shone like dim flashlights. Gandalf however, bore no such glowing eyes and that made Alec curious…he wondered if being a Maiar disallowed the form of glowing eyes…or was it some different kind of magic that Gandalf used?

Behind him he heard the slight shuddering of Ben and glanced behind him to see the man shivering slightly. “Cold?” he asked.

“No…” Ben shook his head, “the Elves…” his voice dropped slightly to a whisper, “the Elves said that they severed the connection I had with the Undead, Robert, but for some odd reason, I can feel him…feel the evil as an Undead…maybe even feel how that Witch-King David, is feeling… There’s…evil all around…”

Raising an eyebrow at Ben’s statement, he was about to reply when out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that Gandalf had held up a hand to stop them.

“What’s the matter?” he asked as Gandalf looked around, holding his white staff up, letting the light shine around the tunnel they were walking in.

“They’re coming,” Gandalf said quietly, but his voice echoed in the tunnels, “leave the Mages to Legolas and I. Kill only the Orcs and non-Mages.”

The sudden wailing of Orcs sent a burst of familiarity through Alec as he took out his guns and flipped the safety off. He hoped to whatever Gods ruled this world that Gimli’s weapons were genuine. A sword hung by his side, something he decided to pick off of one of Gimli’s racks as he knew that when he ran out of bullets or if the fighting got too quartered in for it not to be safe to be shooting bullets all over the place, then he would have another weapon to fall back on.

A crescendo of safeties being switched off along with a few cocking of guns echoed along with his, and he peered into the dim darkness, trying to see what Gandalf was seeing. All of the sudden, it was as if a blue light shone upon their area and Alec looked back to see Legolas putting away his shades, his eerie glowing eyes raking over his and beyond him. He tried to suppress a shudder of creepiness at the Elf’s gaze. He had noticed before during when they were discussing whether or not to follow through with the Valar’s plan to assassinate Sauron, that the Elf had a skull-palm embedded in his right hand, its dull glittering face a definite reminder of what he was.

Almost anyone who knew of Mages knew that to have a skull-palm meant the mark of a skilled assassin, someone who has killed Irimages and survived. Except, Alec now knew that only Elves bore the mark of skull-palms while human Mages bore the mark of a flower on their shoulders. But that still didn’t deter him from his belief…he know believed that all Elves with skull-palms were skilled assassins.

“Here they come…” Ben’s whisper was echoed by the arrival of hordes of Orcs, Irimages, Undead, and sub-humans…all hungry for blood.


	19. Defense

Haldir folded his arms across his chest and stared at the holographic projector map of the Golden City. It was only a matter of a few hours before Sauron’s forces were to besiege them and Elrond had already given the evacuation order to the Mayor of the Golden City who then repeated it to the people to hide underground. Standing next to his right was Firfenion, the commander and representative of the one-thousand-strong army from the Silver City.

Surprisingly, the spiky blonde haired Elf introduced himself as Thranduil’s son, and that made Haldir wonder if Legolas knew that his estranged father had remarried…as Glorfindel had told him what happened during their brief conversation. The Silver City Elves had arrived by copter, and were to be leading the air defense along with Elladan’s wing of jet fighters.

He and Glorfindel were to lead the ground assault with Edward Ruthersfield’s army roaming the outskirts of the Golden City, an attempt at a pincher attack, trapping the army of Sauron. Right now the large, crew cut haired man was standing a bit away from them, staring down at the projection with hardened eyes. Haldir had heard of the rogue military commander, and knew most of his story too as it had made national news, whatever news the United States government rationed.

The story went that Edward had been one of the Army’s foremost generals, excelling in tactical abilities that kept America’s enemies at bay. Something had happened within, and some said that he had been corrupted or framed, but the result was that he suddenly got up and left his post, taking with him a good portion of men and women who were devoted to him. They roamed the lands between the Black City and Golden City, hunting down rogue Mages that terrorized all who lived there.

“The weakest points would be here and here,” Glorfindel explained, he being the second-in-command to all of this, Elrond, obviously the commander. “The bridges are meant to withstand Mage attacks or any projectile, but it’s also vulnerable if they are to be hit multiple times.

“I’ll be assigning Vernomages to shield the weak points, but Firfenion, your Silver City Elves will have to defend these weak points,” the Eldar pointed to the various sections as green-silver dots appeared in that area, the color of the dots representing the Elves of the Silver City by what color their armor was.

The armor of the Elves was not of so many ages ago, but it was reminiscent of those days. It was military issued and built, but a lot sturdier than that of the humans’ armor. Able to repeal and absorb most magic if not concentrated, it gave the wearer the ability to survive longer from a mage attack. Haldir himself had armor, representing the colors of the White City, blue-gold-white pattern that he kept stashed in his temporary quarters in the Golden City.

“We’ll cover you backs,” Firfenion replied in a deep Californian drawl…while managing to sound obscenely obnoxious. Haldir started slightly as the Elf to his right leaned back slightly, arms folded across his armor plated chest, an insufferable look on his face. He had forgotten that Elves so recently born, just starting after the Fifth Age, were very arrogant. They had never grasped the concept of the horror and mighty struggle the Elves previous them had witnessed at the hands of Morgoth and Sauron.

Though it was slightly on the account that most of the Elves had already gone into hiding, after the fall of the great nations of Rohan and Gondor, that a new dictatorship of xenophobic Men had risen up, forcing them to hide who they were and what had happened so many years ago. Rarely did any of the Elves born before the Fifth Age, blame the younger generation for being at fault of not knowing their history.

But that still didn’t excuse the arrogance that had grown in the Elves born after the Fifth Age. Most of the Fifth Age and beyond Elves, or so they dubbed them the New Age Generation, had participated in both WWIII and the Nano War, and from that experience thought that they were ready to take on the world, ready to defend it from the evil. How very wrong they were, in Haldir’s own opinion.

But he had to admit; at least they weren’t like those of the Vanyar and some Eldar Elves who had never rebelled against the Valar. He suppressed a shudder of revulsion at the thought of the Vanyar…when the evil that had enslaved the human race spread to the Elves, the Vanyar were the hardest hit…turning at least most of them into Irimage Elves…or Shadow Elves as they were known to most others.

“We’ll kick those Irimages to Hell and back,” Firfenion’s words broke into Haldir’s thoughts and he raised an appraising eyebrow at the young pretentious Elf.

“Enjoy your stay in Hell,” he murmured mostly to himself, underneath his breath, as he was very irritated with the younger Elf.

There was a cough coming from Glorfindel who was standing next to him and Haldir quashed the attempt to smirk as the Eldar had certainly caught his statement towards Firfenion. “Elladan and Elrohir, you’ll be leading the air defense. They’ll probably be using Summons, so that’ll be your primary target. Secondary target is strafing runs,” the Eldar continued.

“Got you covered,” was the slightly cheerful but grim reply from Elrohir who was standing in the back along with his twin brother, Edward, Liz, and Frank.

“We’re expecting Sauron’s forces to converge on one spot for the time being, while he will probably send scouting and raiding parties around to the back,” Glorfindel keyed up a different rotating image of the city, red points indicating the various spots that Sauron’s army was most likely to attack. “Rinaran, you’ll be leading the second defense group. We’ll need your forces to head to a few of these points through the various hidden paths if our forces are occupied during the assault.”

“As ordered,” was the grim reply and Haldir glanced over and caught Rinaran’s eye and nodded. He had known Rinaran ever since the first rise and fall of Sauron during the Last Alliance. The female Elf was formerly the head of all Swordmaidens in Rivendell, but when the group had disbanded after so many losses during a joint Elven assault on Angmar during the early-mid Third Age, she had in turn left Middle Earth with her husband and headed to Valinor.

When Haldir had crossed over himself, he had found her, living a peaceful quiet life, but that quiet life was shattered when a great evil consumed Valinor once more, turning Elf upon Elf, those of the Vanyar against those who had come from Middle Earth, forgiven by the Valar. The internal war raged on for many centuries and at least Two Ages before the Vanyar and those others that had sided with them were exiled from Valinor by a decree of the Gods of the Earth.

But by then, it was too late and many Elves had perished with the squabbling, including Rinaran’s husband. Though Haldir never had any romantic feelings for the former Swordmaiden, he consoled her as a friend would and together they reaffirmed the bond of friendship to a deeper level.

“Are there any questions so far?” Glorfindel’s brisk announcement startled him from his musings. There was a pause before the Eldar shut down the projector, “Good, preparations must be ready within an hour.” Haldir knew that the Elf wasn’t too keen on giving a ‘good luck speech’ or anything of that nature and tended to just say what he wanted to say, which was fine for him, as he also didn’t like giving last minute speeches. Not like what some humans did.

As the others filed out of the Situation Room, Haldir turned to the two other White City elves that had accompanied him. Both Fereveldir and Arthonas stood at attention like the soldiers they were under his command. They had already taken the liberty in the lull of the meeting that Elrond had called together, to put their armor on and now the blue-white-silver armor of the White City reflected the seemingly blue light emitting from the whole room.

“Fereveldir,” the younger Elf snapped to attention, “relay a message to Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn. Tell them of the situation here. You will be coordinating things with them from the Situation Room if we loose communications.”

The Elf nodded and headed towards one of the communication stations. Haldir turned towards the other Elf, “Arthonas, I’ll need you to tell the army I am commanding for this battle to move to these two positions,” he flipped on the projector and pointed to the two spots in which were near some of the vulnerable points of the city’s border. “I’ll be joining you shortly.”

The other Elf nodded quickly before jogging out of the Situation Room, making a beeline for the preparation area of the Golden City where the army he was going to command was waiting for him.

It was a small army, but they were loyal to Lorien Inc. and they didn’t really mind who commanded them, as they were freelancers. But it was also the army Haldir needed for this kind of defensive purpose. He needed an army that would be able to skirt around to different locations around the Golden City in a matter of minutes to help provide stronger defenses.

Taking one more look at the projector, he walked out of the room… “Haldir,” Glorfindel’s voice stopped him and he turned to see the Eldar pulling the final piece to his protective armor across his shoulder. Like him, Glorfindel didn’t like helmets that obstructed his vision and his loose long blonde hair only pulled back with a tie hung down the back of his armor.

“Heading to change up?” the Eldar asked as he gestured for them to continue walking.

“Yes,” Haldir replied, taking an escalator down towards the armory. Though he was given temporary quarters at the Golden City to act as a liaison between White and Golden City, he left most of his armor and equipment in the city’s armory, which was under heavy guard at all times. “I sent Fereveldir to maintain contact with Lady Galadriel in case anything happens.”

“Good,” was the reply as Glorfindel adjusted the belt in which his sword hung from and a few barrels of what looked to be Mage-shield piercing guns. Though Haldir reluctantly placed himself underneath the command of others, with the exception of whenever Lady Galadriel or Lord Celeborn was the leader, he knew that he was at a disadvantage here.

This was Glorfindel’s city, and Glorfindel, being the guard-general of Elrond, had ultimate say in what was to be done in battle. He was just his second for now…

“What are we expecting from Sauron?” he asked as they rounded a corner.

“Our scouts last saw Orcs and Irimages, no Shadow Elves though,” Glorfindel replied and Haldir breathed a quick sigh of relief. He didn’t really mind dealing with human Irimages, but with Shadow Elves they were another story.

“Are the Nazgul going to come?” he wondered if they would either stay at the Black City since they could sense the former Ringbearer or would they come and attack the Golden City.

“If they come, let them,” was the steely reply and Haldir noticed an unusual glint in Glorfindel’s green eyes, something that struck him to realize that the Elf probably had an innate power that he didn’t know about.

They continued towards the armory in silence.

* * *

Anna was pissed. Extremely pissed. She noticed that Elladan and Elrohir had even backed away during her whirlwind storm into the residential hall of Elrond and his family and nearly blew the doors open to the living room of the hall. Her eyes blazed as she searched for the target of her fury.

Spotting Elrond, she stalked towards him, her every step vibrating the floor. She could feel her hands curling up with defensive magical powers, but she held back, her police training preventing her from blasting the Elf into tiny pieces, though she highly doubted she could do it, and a voice inside her head told her to reason everything out with Elrond before making any rash moves.

“What’s the meaning of this, _Lord Elrond_ ,” she hissed his name, making him turn around as he fitted the final adjustment to his armor, a calm expression on his face.

“What, if I may ask?” he replied in a calm voice which only served to infuriate Anna even further.

“Why did you tell the other commanders that I am not to fight in this battle?!” she yelled. Elrond only stared at her with the same calm expression and she gritted her teeth in frustration. “I am a human being! A Vernomage! I can fight! I can help defend the pillars! Is this because I am the reincarnation of your former daughter?! Is it?!”

“No-“

“Don’t lie to me, Elrond! That’s the truth isn’t it?!”

“I’m only trying to protect you-“ Elrond started calmly, taking his hands away from adjusting his armor and letting them relax at his side.

“Bullshit,” Anna fired back, interrupting him, “I don’t need your protection.”

“You are my daughter-“

“A reincarnated version. I’m not Arwen Undomiel in all her perfect bullshitting glory! I’m Anna Elanor, NYPD Detective, and if you have a problem with that, then take it up with my superior, Franklin!”

“I have, already,” the flat statement from Elrond was enough to stop her mid-rant, “and he has advised against using you in battle.”

“What?!”

“You can ask him if you want,” Elrond replied a bit sarcastically.

“No…I don’t think so…” Anna couldn’t believe her ears. Frank actually suggested that she be left behind. Did everyone think that she was going to break like china since she was the reincarnation of Arwen Undomiel? Hell no, she wasn’t…she would prove it…she would!

Spinning around on her heel, Anna stalked back to the door when Elrond’s next words floored her.

“We both agree to keep you in safety, which is why you will placed in the Healing Hall to help the wounded. Alec made this his last request before he left for the mission,” Elrond’s voice had softened considerably and Anna froze then turned around, not caring that tears were forming in her eyes.

“Prove it,” she demanded.

Elrond held out his hand and Anna’s breath caught in her throat. The pendant that Galadriel had given to Aragorn during his mission with the Fellowship glistened softly in the warmly lit living room. It was also the same pendant that Anna had seen Alec wear so many times and kiss it during his assignments with the NYPD. If Elrond had it, then it was most likely Alec who had made that request.

She walked tentative steps forward until her hand brushed against the jewel before Elrond gently placed it in hers. She stared at it for a moment, a tear falling down her face. She missed Alec already…and she knew the risks of the seemingly suicide mission, but if Alec was a Vernomage then this would help his abilities increase…

She didn’t really notice Elrond’s arms engulfing her in a gentle embrace before the tears started to fall rapidly down her face.

“It’s okay, my child…cry,” Elrond whispered as both former father and daughter shared a quiet moment before the storm.

* * *

Haldir shared his quiet moment with no one, preferring to be alone with his thoughts as he stood at attention with the rest of his small army, watching from one of the walkways of the first defense line, watching for telltale signs that the enemy was approaching.

A cool breeze of the night lifted his slightly geld short hair up before it settled back down and he stared outwards, taking only a moment to glance up at the stars, offering up a silent prayer to Varda to give them a good victorious battle.

He once shared his quiet moments, the lull before the storm of the battle, with someone; she was already gone, having descended to the Halls of Mandos during the early Fourth Age. Her name was Valiya and she was a Swordmaiden of first Mirkwood then Ithilien, the second in command of Legolas’ former realm.

She had died during a battle with rogue Orc parties roaming the woods, who were leaderless, and though they did not have too much of a romantic interlude with each other, they still were deep close friends. Her death hit him hard, but he eventually recovered and seeing that there was no other attachments that held him to Middle Earth, he eventually departed for Valinor after Legolas and Gimli had went before him.

He shifted slightly while staring out into the darkness, the full moon sky. He could feel the darkness growing in his mind…it wasn’t too long now, before the whole of the Golden City would be engaged in a bloody battle.

The Valar that had been present during the meeting with the Fellowship had left already for what they deemed ‘other business’. Haldir didn’t know whether or not to trust the Valar but finally decided if the Lady or Lord would trust them then he would abide by their judgment.

Franklin and Liz the other two humans in the small group that had been crowding around the Situation Room’s projector were in the Healing Hall, ready to assist anyone who was injured. They had opted to join Edward’s rogue forces in combining a pincher attack, but Edward had flatly refused their offer, saying that they were more important.

His eyes suddenly focused intently into the darkness as he casted a scanning spell on himself. He could see in the magnified distance the glowing red eyes of Irimages…and the growling of Orcs…

Haldir released the spell just as the piercing cry of a Nazgul echoed from the distance and lifted his hands slightly, each fingertip crackling with electrical currents from the magical lightning he was generating.

The battle had begun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You might notice a few familiar faces of semi-major characters in this story like Rinaran or the mention of a few old ones like Valiya. Those characters are from my story, Pastime Promises, Memories.


	20. Transference

Alec reloaded his gun again and ducked behind a slab of fallen pipes that was part of the former subway tracks. Water dripped down his face as he had fallen into a slightly deep puddle a few minutes ago while dodging an Irimage’s blast of magic fire. His clothing was already soaked, but he didn’t care. Peeking out of his temporary hiding place, he quickly fired off a few shots and smiled grimly as they impacted the Sub-human he had been trying to kill.

Sub-humans had come upon them like ravenous dogs; all attracted to the magic use by Legolas, Gandalf and most likely the Irimages. They were attacking anything that resembled magic using and thus weren’t too much a nuisance. But occasionally they came after them and defending himself from both Orcs and Sub-humans had become a priority.

For the two magic-users in their party, they were firing barrages of spells and whatnot, destroying the Irimages that had come upon them. It was up to the rest of the party to protect them from the feeding frenzy of the Sub-humans, as magic had absolutely no effect on them.

He heard the sizzle of a lighting bolt impacting the pipes he was behind and felt its electrical current dissipate through the water and the metallic rusted pipes. Lucky for magic, the lightning generated by Mages wasn’t like real lightning and thus wasn’t able to do much harm if it came in contact with water or anything metal. He peered out once more and suddenly rolled backwards as a Sub-human launched itself at him. He leapt to his feet and shot his foot out, kicking the Sub-human in the chest.

Slipping his gun into its holster, Alec attacked the Sub-human, raining blows upon the creature. Ducking beneath a wild grab, he felt the air passage of the creature’s claws and drew out his gun once more. Firing off a critical shot, the Sub-human dropped heavily to the ground, splattering water everywhere from the puddle it fell into.

Alec gave a quick sigh before turning around and firing off another shot. His gun clicked empty and the Sub-human who had been creeping up towards him gave him a leering smile, sensing that its prey ran out of weaponry. The Sub-human raised its hands, claws extended, wicked razor-like teeth gleaming from the glow of magic being fired everywhere.

Snorting silently, Alec threw away his gun and drew out the sword that was at his side. The sword felt right in his hands and he stumbled slightly as a flash of memory ran through his vision.

_Helm’s Deep was falling…he couldn’t let it fall…no! Hacking away at an Orc that was reaching out to him, Aragorn glanced up towards the Hornburg…reinforcements were needed! Even Eomer was faltering with his line of Rohirrim…_

The vision ended, just in time for Alec to raise his sword up, countering vicious claws that were trying to rip at him. He drew back his sword with a metallic clang and held it, watching the Sub-human warily. A battle sense seemed to fill him, and he could perceive what was going on around him with certain clarity. Behind him, an Undead was trying to creep up; he would have to deal with the Undead soon… A few more Undead were looking to attack Gandalf who was defending Gimli from Irimages, who had taken an abrupt slip on an ice sheet that had been casted by one of the Irimages. Gandalf would have to be warned.

He brought all of the battle ‘data’ as he quickly dubbed it, back to his senses and then focused on the Sub-human in front of him. The Sub-human licked its pale lips, and suddenly twitched. That was the entire opening that Alec needed and he charged at the creature with a battle cry.

Spinning away from the claws that tore at him, he crouched and whipped his sword around in an arc. Metal hit the rotten flesh of the Sub-human and ripped apart the creature. But Alec wasn’t done yet. He raised his free hand up and glared at the Undead that had been sneaking towards him. Without a second thought, Alec blasted the Undead into pieces with a white ball of light, similar to what Anna had done during their escape from the Black City.

The Undead died without a sound. Alec didn’t hesitate as he got up and thrust his blade into the abdomen of another Sub-human who came after him, attracted to his magic using. The creature hissed slightly before falling to the ground. “Gandalf!” he called to the wizard, “three Undead, behind you!”

That was the only thing he got out before a bright white light blinded the whole area.

* * *

Legolas’ eyes blazed with the internal power of all of the magic he could call upon. Even his reserves were being depleted and still they came. He didn’t bother with anymore techno-fusing as the enemy was too close together to his friends for him to target them safely without having his arrows ping off of shields and hit one of his friends. He held his hands up and let his magic blaze a warpath among the ranks of Orcs, Irimages, Undead, and Sub-Humans.

Calling up lightning, he splayed out his fingers and blasted two Irimages back into a crumbling section of the subway walls. Both impacted the wall and were obliterated into black dust. He formed two white magical daggers in his own hands and waded into the ranks of Irimages, all who leered at him with their red eyes.

There were no Shadow Elves he had to thank the Valar for that, but still, these human Irimages were very pesky creatures. Jabbing a dagger into the throat of one, he swiftly drew a line, tugging slightly as the dagger snagged on muscle of the Irimage’s neck before ripping it out and plunged it into the throat of another. Lashing out with his other hand, he caught another Iri by the stomach.

Legolas grimaced before taking the dagger out of the stomach of that Iri and then turned around, elbowing one of them in the face. He immediately shifted his grip on his dagger and plunged it into the Iri creeping up on him, before blasting the head to pieces with a white ball of light.

He didn’t even flinch so much as the powers from the dead Irimages began to converge on him and forced themselves upon his own magic; he just let it pass through him and it added more energy to him. He could faintly feel its evil touching him, but he didn’t care at the moment. Focusing on the task at hand, he plunged his other dagger upwards into the jaw of a crouched Irimage and the mage died instantly, its brain pierced by the magical weapon.

Legolas allowed a rueful smile to creep to the corners of his mouth, in which he could taste blood from the various cuts and scratches he received while dealing with some of the mages and other unsightly dark creatures during the initial battle. But he shunted all of his pain aside and drew on the added power that kept coming at him from the various dead Irimages. He closed his eyes and with a scanning spell, could see the Irimages converging on him; the fringes of the group littered with Sub-humans…all sensing the growing power within him.

He siphoned more energy into the spell he was going to unleash. The attack group that Sauron had sent them had lessened considerably, and this spell would finish all off… He could feel the evil that had been transferred along with the dead mages’ powers growing…but violently suppressed it. He would deal with it later…

Feeling as if he was going to burst from the amount of power he had been gathering to himself, Legolas snapped open his eyes abruptly and pitted the red-glowing-eyed Irimage who so happened to be half-crouched in front of him, its glinting fangs dripping off saliva. “Goodbye,” he said in a simple cold voice before grabbing onto the Irimage’s forehead and drew its soul to him.

He dimly heard Alec shout something to Gandalf before he raised his arms upward and unleashed the spell, adding to it the soul of the Irimage that would increase it ten-fold. A bright white light filled the area.

Though Legolas knew his friends could not see what was happening, he _saw_. It was like watching a nuclear explosion take place, except with magic. All of the Irimages and dark creatures that had been battling them were obliterated, all pushed back slightly before fading into dust. He could make out the outlines of his friends, all shielding their eyes, but the magic passed harmlessly over them. He had made the spell harm not one hair on his friends, and instead focused on those attacking them.

The white light of the spell eventually faded, plunging them into dim darkness once more. He blinked; watching as the walls shone with blue then flickered slightly with each blink of his eyes. He could tell that his eyes were a lot brighter…which meant that there were a considerable number of Technomages posing as Irimages among the enemy forces.

“The hell…” was the first words out of Matt’s mouth as he pushed himself up from the wall, his sword bloodied, himself slightly grimy but otherwise all right.

“What was that?” Ben’s groggy voice floated from somewhere near where Gandalf was brushing himself off and held out a hand to help the police officer get up from a fairly deep puddle he fell into.

“Legolas?” Gimli’s concerned voice made Legolas stare at the taller man, who was leaning against a long half-moon axe he had been hacking away with. A trickle of blood made its lazy way down one side of the Reincarnated dwarf’s face, but he didn’t seem to notice.

Legolas was about to reply before he noticed the magic powered vortex swirling around him becoming denser. All of the mages he had killed in that single shot…all of their powers was going to come at him at once. He prepared himself both mentally and physically for the shock of it. He knew that it wasn’t going to be like the time him, Haldir, and Glorfindel were escaping to the Golden City with the twins in tow.

When the wave hit, he felt his eyes pop open at the intensity of it. It ripped through him, but he fought back. No! He wasn’t going to let some trivial thing such as a power transfer defeat him. Not when he would grow stronger.

 _What the…_ a rational part of his mind suddenly jerked him, or was it the power transfer; he didn’t really dwell on that. Why did he have the sudden urge to grow stronger? Why did he want to? He gritted his teeth in silent anger as he could feel the evil that had come along with the Irimage transfers before; they were influencing his judgment. He was going to have to suppress them, and soon. No! Focus! He told himself as he battled with the power transfer within himself.

Summoning his inner strength, he started to take the swirling power within himself and transferred it, piecemeal. He could feel the magic around him waning…dying bit by bit as he slowly won against its destructive force. He could feel his magic powers growing by the second as each transformation of the destructive force to a constructive force gave him more. Finally, he reached out mentally and bled the rest to the remaining corpses littered throughout the area and with closed eyes dimly saw fire starting around them, burning the corpses to ashes.

After a few minutes, he slowly opened his eyes once more and let out a soft sigh. It was over…for now… He felt a bit dizzy…and slightly exhausted, as he seriously wasn’t used to this much power coming at him…

“Legolas?” Gimli’s voice prodded him again and he met his best friend’s gaze evenly, noting how the former hobbits stared at him, recoiling slightly from his brighter glowing-blue-eyed gaze. Every person he knew did that at least once, including Haldir and the other Elves.

“I’m fine…you?” he replied then turned to the others and tilted his head slightly and silently asked the same question to the others.

“Can’t be more peachy than now,” Gimli replied, a wiry grin forming on his face, “it felt good to slaughter Orcs again…”

“I think…we’re fine,” Alec answered, looking a bit dizzy himself and also confused as he sheathed his sword and leaned against the subway wall.

“Gandalf?” Fred’s voice brought everyone’s gazes to the wizard whose hand was glowing white as he had it placed on Ben’s forehead, the man looking as if to be in a trance.

“Yes, Fredrick?” Gandalf replied, releasing his hand from the man’s forehead and then looked around, shifting his staff to his other hand. Ben, meanwhile, looked considerably healthier than he was before the beginning of this skirmish.

“How come you didn’t absorb any of the Irimage’s powers?” Fred asked.

Legolas raised an eyebrow and looked at the wizard for the answer. Gandalf suddenly looked old and tired and even sat down on a slab, flicking a few ashes off of the slab, left over from a former dark creature. The wizard bowed his head for a while until even he thought that the wizard was suffering from an internal spell or an internal injury of sorts.

“Though…I have the power, as I am Maiar,” Gandalf started hesitantly, which was a surprise for Legolas, “I am only in this human form and can do so much.”

“Why? Why not go to your real form?” Fred persisted, and Sam voiced his agreement.

“I cannot. The only way, is for me to die once more…as I had done with my battle against Durin’s Bane,” Gandalf replied solemnly, which immediately plastered guilty looks from all of the former hobbits. They remembered…hell even Legolas remembered…and it wasn’t a pleasant memory.

“I’m sorry…” Fred replied softly, which was loud in these echoing subway tunnels.

“Don’t trouble yourself Fredrick,” Gandalf smiled tiredly, “its only out of curiosity that you ask. Yes, the mages I have killed will potentially become Undead if an Irimage so happens plans to summon the spirit and body back up, but it is the least of all our problems.”

“Gandalf?” Alec’s voice had a curious pitch as if suspicious of something.

“Yes?”

“Why _are_ we doing this? Why were we the ones to be sent to kill Sauron?” Alec asked.

“Is it because we’re expendable? Because we are the Fellowship that Sauron feared us so? No…it is because we have the ability to. We are a fellowship that has always supported each other, even if some had taken the path to darkness. Like brothers in arms, we each carry the same special skill no other have. Not hope, but the courage to see the hope through no matter the cost. Yes, some of the other Elves have that courage and that hope, but to combine ours together…it is what enabled Sauron and Morgoth to fear us and grow overconfident of himself,” Gandalf explained patiently before he tilted his head slightly as if listening to something and Legolas caught it after a few seconds.

It was the sound of more dark creatures coming their way…most likely Sub-Humans…

“They’re coming,” he spoke up, alerting the others who half rose from their positions.

“Let us go…there isn’t much time to waste,” Gandalf stood up, brushing dust off of himself, “Benjamin, Alexander, can you tell us where we are at the moment?”

“Um…getting my bearings…I say we’re just below the Empire State Building….” Ben said.

“Then we climb up,” Gandalf hefted his gnarled walking stick and began to climb the ladder that was on the side, bits of entrails from the dark creatures hanging off various rungs.

Legolas waited until all of the others were up before starting the climb upward himself. He hung back for a second and with an outstretched arm towards the ground, he casted a trapping spell. That would hold off whoever was coming at them for a few minutes, giving them time to reach Sauron’s lair…which was in the Empire State Building, presumably the top floor.

As he finished his spell, he began to climb up, not noticing a few red glowing eyes in the shadows of where the skirmish had taken place. The red glowing eyes came from within the walls and suddenly the eyes walked out of the walls…

Attached to the eyes were dark bodies, bodies that could not be seen in any type of light save magical ones. They weren’t human Irimages, but they certainly looked like them.

“[ _By the light and darkness…He will rule…_ ] one of the red-glowing-eyed figure hissed in an ancient Elven dialect.

Silently, a horde of Shadow Elves descended themselves upon the ladder in which the fellowship climbed through and dismembered the spell Legolas had casted earlier with childish ease and followed.


	21. Fear

Lightning flashed in the night sky, and with it came an instantaneous booming of thunder. But there were multiple flashes of lightning at the same time, magic being drawn from the storm that had came over the Golden City, bathing the once shining city of hope and light, into all of its dark glory, the city that held deceit underneath its buildings… Creatures of the night and evil prowled through the city, but there were those that defended it down to the last man, or Elf. The army of Elrond, combined with the rogue army of former United States General Edward Ruthersfield, was defending it against hordes of Orcs, Undead, and Irimages, Sauron’s Army.

One such defender was Glorfindel, head commander of the whole defending army. He battled his way through the front lines of the skirmish, taking any evil creature down with perfected ease. He knew that his lord and commander, Elrond was counting on him to stay the main forces away from the main building that was Lorien Inc.

As he concentrated and splayed his fingers out, lightning arched from the tips and struck multiple Irimages who promptly fell to the ground, scorched dead, but where the few that had fallen, more came to replace them. As a rare Techno and Vernomage, Glorfindel knew that he had the ultimate advantage over many of his fellow comrades-in-arms, and his power rivaled that of the strongest Irimages, the Nine Walkers. Though he didn’t really know the reason, he speculated that it was probably from so many missions Lord Elrond had assigned him; the missions to assassinate rogue mages and trouble-makers.

But at times, he could feel a higher power calling to him…something inside of him that was long buried. He didn’t know how to access this ‘foreign’ power, but instead it came to him sporadically…usually when he was in the midst of a furious battle. There were the sporadic times in which he totally lost control of himself and lashed out with this hidden power, but usually it was when he was surrounded by enumerable opposing forces.

He hoped that soon he would be able to find out what this power was within him. He didn’t want to lose control in a calm situation, and he had a feeling that if he did lose control, it would not bode so well with his allies.

This was why he also distanced himself and let the enemy surround him. He could command from afar, but he did this as a safety precaution. Even his lord, Elrond, knew of his sporadic bursts of power and didn’t mind him commanding from afar. Besides, Glorfindel trusted his current second-in-command, Haldir, to take over if things turned awry. He also trusted his original second-in-command, former swordmaiden Rinaran. Both would be able to get the job done if he was incapacitated in any way.

As he drew out his sword, still sharp as ever since it was forged from the latter years of the 2nd Age, he held it ready in front of him. His hands glowed orange as he techno-fused it with magic, giving his sword, _Raithen_ , an eerie fiery-orange glow. Flames licked the edges of his sword, flaring out occasionally and he charged into the fray of Orcs and enemy mages.

He greeted the first Orc with his blade, slicing its head off in one stroke. Stepping back, he flipped the pommel of his sword around and stabbed through the stomach of a Technomage, and raised a hand behind him to blast it away from his sword. The Technomage flew away with the cry of a wounded man and the weight upon his sword was lessened.

He whirled around, blasting black a few mages with a burst of white light before fusing even more magic within _Raithen_. His sword began to glow a deadly glow of orange and Glorfindel concentrated. He drew upon all of the magic he had within him, reaching for those tendrils and added magic that he had just so recently absorbed by the dead mages around him. Opening his eyes he pointed his sword at an Orc who stared at him and growled.

Raising an eyebrow he eyed the Orc coldly before he let loose the magic contained within _Raithen_. Fire poured out of his blade and incinerated the Orc and those behind him. The fire spread in a circle and outwards, tendrils crawling at other enemies so far away, and were struck down. As soon as the fire circle died off a piercing scream reverberated through the thunderstorm and night.

The cry of a Nazgul.

Glorfindel looked towards the sound of the Nazgul and a glint appeared in his eyes. A glint that held the ancient power that he once wielded.

* * *

Elladan whistled over the comm. systems between fighters as he saw the Fire Circle Glorfindel produced near the front-line of the battle. The Elf sure had a lot of magic within him. That was one of the most impressive Fire Circles he had ever seen in his whole life.

He pulled back on the stick of his fighter and watched his world go in a loop before he righted again and a fiend summon flew past him, its long dripping claws attempting to rake his fighter in half. _Not today little buddy_ , he let a rueful grin loose on his face. Using a targeting spell, he watched as his fighter drew closer to the fiend…

“Star Leader, fox-four mark two,” he said as he launched a missile against the fiend. Moments later a brilliant explosion of color filled the air and the fiend was gone from his targeting spell.

“Star Leader this is Phase Leader, what’s your stasis bro, over?” his brother’s voice crackled over the comm.

“Got six so far, you?” he replied, glancing out of his cockpit window to see Elrohir dodge a few lightning strikes and fire a missile volley into a crowd of orcs and mages who promptly blew into dust.

“Seven…ha! I beat you-“ Elrohir’s voice suddenly cut off and Elladan was worried but watched as he saw a massive surge of magical energy form their vortex and launch themselves at his brother’s fighter.

“Elrohir?” he called over the comm.

“Gimme a sec,” was the strained reply.

“Whoa! Phase Leader you’ve picked up a bogey on your tail!” Elladan peeled his fighter up and over towards his brother’s as he saw another summon, this time a black dragon rear its ugly head and make a beeline towards the swirling vortex that was his brother’s fighter.

“I got it, don’t worry,” the cool, calm collected voice of one of Edward Ruthersfield’s men called over, “Talon Squadron form up on me. We’ve got a dragon to hunt. Star Leader you better get your brother out of there. When this dragon goes, it’s going!”

“Roger that Talon Leader,” Elladan acknowledge the order, even though he was second-in-command of the air defense while his brother was commander, he was all options when taking orders from anyone in the air. It was a way to work, to defend the city. He pushed on the stick of his fighter and dived towards his brother. Surely the power transfer was complete, he thought as he leveled off, a bit afraid to approach. But no, the vortex was getting stronger…and stronger…

Elladan widened his eyes as he realized what his brother had done. He wasn’t letting the absorption into him, instead he was feeding off of it, building the vortex into a massive ball of intense magical power, and he had a feeling that it was going to be for the dragon summon that was hovering near him, now fending off missiles and various bullets from Talon Squadron’s fighters.

He keyed the comm. quickly and spoke into it, “Talon Leader! Break off! Break off! The vortex is a magical nuclear bomb! Elrohir’s gonna blow that son-of-a-bitch dragon to hell with it! Get out of there NOW!”

There was a hiss and crack before Talon Leader’s awed reply came over, “Talon Squadron breaking, we’re headed towards your bearings. Better grab a few Vernos and tell them to build a shield on us. I’ve seen one of those things blow up before and barely survived.”

“Roger that Talon Leader,” Elladan acknowledged as he watched eight out of the twelve remaining specks that were Talon Squadron zip towards him. He hoped his brother knew what he was doing. It was rare for a Technomage to not absorb the powers and instead turn its raw form into a weapon…but it was also something Elrohir had a natural affinity for, which was why his eyes didn’t glow as much nor did his skull palm turn darker with each mage killing. But Elrohir had as much experience if not more fighting mages…he just chose not to absorb their power.

Flipping the comm. channel to a different frequency he signaled the Situation Room back at the Lorien Inc. building and got Fereveldir, one of Haldir’s two fellow White City elves who was monitoring the battle. “Hey Fere,” he knew that the elf didn’t mind the shortened form of his name, “we’ll be needing a few Vernos up here. Elrohir, if you haven’t noticed-“

“Unabsorbed magical nuclear bomb. Pleasant,” Fereveldir’s annoyance was evident but he smiled, “roger that Elladan. Good thing you’re away from the main battle, other wise the Vernos down near the pillars would have one hell of a time trying to defend those pillars and save your skinny asses.”

“Dude, you are spending too much time in the Pentagon in the United States. You sound like one of those big military higher-ups who have got their heads stuck in their asses,” Elladan grinned wirily, “go back to the White City where you belong.”

“After this Elladan, after this,” Fereveldir replied smiling before shutting off the link.

Elladan only had to wait a few seconds before he noticed pinkish tint around his fighter and around others too. Damn, Vernomages were really fast… Turning his head he watched as suddenly the swirling vortex flew towards the black dragon summon who roared and attempted to swipe it out of the air. “Yeah! Go bro!” he whispered as he cheered his brother on who immediately flew towards them after launching his “homemade” magical equivalent nuclear bomb. As he flew towards them a pinkish shield encased him…moments before the blinding flash erupted from where the dragon was.

He threw up an arm to block the glaring light and felt a shudder run through his fighter as the shockwave traveled through the air. Moments later all was dark again save for the occasional lightning bolt and he peeked from under his arm to see that where the dragon once flew there was no more except falling dust.

“Yeah! That got ‘em!” Elrohir crowed over the comm. system.

* * *

Anna staggered back slightly as she kept her mind focused on some of the shields she and a few Elves had created to protect the fighters hovering near where the black dragon was. The shockwave of the magical bomb was overwhelming, but she had managed to keep her mind reinforced.

She knew that she had disobeyed Elrond’s command and had gone off to join the other Vernos in battle, but she had stayed near the entrance to the building, on the opposite side of Elrond and had steadfastly ignored his scathing glances towards her during the battle.

She, a Vernomage, had defended the city with a few summonses, more like white demons to harass the fiends and the enemies that got too close, but she never knew Elrond was both a Techno and a Verno. A Vernomage only able to heal and not summon or use any other magic, he made this lacking thing up for wielding unusual magic that even she with her years on the NYPD had never seen a Technomage do.

Fireballs burst from his finger tips and he incanted some of his magic, making the magic more ancient and powerful and they lit the stormy night sky up with burning summons, mages, and orcs. If Anna wasn’t so busy trying to defend herself and others with her shields, she would have found the display awe inspiring.

She could see with her Elven far-sight that General Ruthersfield’s armies were having a grand time pinning the orcs down from leaving or escaping as they attacked from the outskirts of the city. A loud whoop came over the comm. station near the entrance of the building and brought her gaze back up to where her “brothers” were in their fighters and she smiled grimly. Trust Elrohir to come up with such a foolhardy plan. They hadn’t changed except gaining mage powers.

Seeing that it was safe for the fighters to continue their runs, she signaled to the other Vernos around her and they let their shields go. Some of the mages fell to their knees, momentarily stunned by the power of the blast against their mental capabilities, but they shook it off just as fast and rose to their feet, eyes scanning warily for any sign of trouble.

Anna returned her gaze to the platform they were on and noticed out of the corner of her eye a few Wilders, floating on pinkish shields rise up to face them. She focused on her powers and summoned forth two falcons that flew away from her fingers and started their attack run towards the Wilders.

A few other birds or animals joined hers, adding their white brilliance to her summon, the light even blinding to an Elf. But Anna was trained in the ways of blocking out that light and peered through it to communicate with her two falcons.

 _Left flank…attack_ , she coolly sent to them in a telepathic message and peered beyond the bright light to see them dive at the Wilders who reacted instantly with a barrage of spells. Suddenly she could sense spells directed at her and her fellow Vernos and instinctively held up a hand and a pinkish shield formed just as an ice spell hit it, veering off with a pinging sound.

 _Ice magic_ , she told her magical falcons and they immediately crystallized into ice and dive-bombed in a suicide attack at two Wilders. The Wilders, sensing a suicide attack laughed and put up their shields, but Anna focused all of her magic onto her summons and saw them pierce the shields and dived straight into the hearts of the Wilders, killing them instantly.

Immediately the bright light dimmed with the passing of two summons but out from the light came two swirling vortex of untapped power and Anna welcomed the added power. She stored and converted the power to her own use, preparing another more powerful summoning spell.

The battle still raged on.

* * *

Haldir wiped blood off of a fairly deep cut near his temple and matted his slick short hair with the crimson sticky substance but he didn’t care anymore. He heaved a heavy sigh and fell back for only a second before turning around and hacking away at another Orc. He could barely see the whirling shape of Glorfindel a few yards away engrossed in his own magical battle, the Irimages sensing a more powerful opponent than he.

This left him to defend from Orcs and other mages who dare not go near Glorfindel. Haldir could sense a greater power in the golden-haired Eldar; a hidden untapped power that had yet to be released, but it was just brimming, sitting there. He briefly wondered if Elrond knew his second-in-command had such untapped power, but lost the thought as a Wilder peered up at him, the human’s eyes wild with unabsorbed and raging magic in his eyes. But he could also see stupidity bright in those eyes and shook his head imperceptibly.

“Get out of my way,” he growled at the Wilder who only grinned insanely. Haldir stepped forward and held up a bloodied armored hand and attacked. Lightning crackled from his finger tips and traveled the short length between him and the Wilder, but still the insane mage grinned and suddenly a pink shield flared up between the lightning and the mage.

He watched as his lightning impacted the shield and dissipated harmlessly to the sides. Frowning, Haldir suddenly ducked as another Orc heaved a meat cleaver like weapon towards his head. He turned slight and stabbed at the Orc who immediately collapsed, dead. Turning his attention back to the Wilder, Haldir knew that he would have to go hand-to-hand with this mage until he could get past the Wilder’s shields.

Wilders weren’t hard to defeat, but they were a nuisance, especially ones that were able to produce shields like Vernomages. But he was glad that it was a Wilder instead of a Shadow Elf. If Shadow Elves’ appeared it would be putting the human mages here to doom. He stalked forward and released the Techno-fuse he had on his long sword. No magic he was capable of was able to penetrate the shield of a Wilder so regular weapons had to be used.

The Wilder grinned again and Haldir charged forward, blasting the Wilder with lightning as a feint attack. He saw the Wilder raise his arms back up in a counterattack and he slipped underneath the protective shield, feeling a brief burning sensation and tingle pass through his face and armor. Stabbing upwards, blood suddenly flowed from the gaping wound he gave to the Wilder when he shoved the human backwards and immediately swung his sword in a counterstrike to decapitate its head.

The Wilder fell back without another sound, its pinkish shield fading away. Suddenly the cry of a Nazgul pierced the stormy night sky and Haldir felt a shudder run down his spine. He really hated Nazgul…in their previous incarnations and in this one…especially this reincarnation of them.

Their magic was equal with Shadow Elves (Elf Irimages) if not better and they answered to no one but Sauron. Back then he was able to kill them with swords and arrows, but now…he had to contend with powerful magic and the possibility of not even having a Verno around them. He glanced up into the stormy sky and saw one hovering above him…or rather near where Glorfindel was. Glancing towards the Eldar, his eyes widened as he saw the Eldar glow a bit…an almost radiance of a summon…

Battling and hacking his way towards the Eldar, Haldir hesitated to touch the shoulder of Elrond’s guard-general, but did so anyways. What he felt was a sense of peace and tranquility, amidst the raging battlefield, pass over him…and he felt renewed by this tranquility. His eyes could see with such clarity and he felt his strength renewed. Even his magical reserves inside of him were replenished…

“Glorfindel?” he asked as he noticed the Orcs and other dark creatures were forming a circle around them, but keeping their distance. There was fear written in those dark creatures’ eyes and they occasionally stuck a lance or a sword near the Eldar and him, but drew it away as quickly. Even Wilders, Technomages, and Irimages were hesitant…something that bewildered Haldir.

“We fight…” Glorfindel’s voice was as hard as ice, yet warm at the same time.

Haldir didn’t know if the Eldar was talking to the Nazgul who rode a fierce looking green dragon mount above them, or to him, but he stepped slightly away from the Eldar and re-fused his sword, noticing that Glorfindel’s _Raithen_ was glowing orange flames while his sword, _Tathas_ , was crackling arcs blue lightning.

Glorfindel suddenly looked up at the Nazgul, “Come,” the demand and power in his word was so great that even he felt the force of them.

The Nazgul gave a shriek and dived down at them, his yellow-eyed green dragon roaring too. Opened mouth, the dragon breathed flame down upon them, and Haldir reflexively ducked but then noticed a pinkish shield forming around him and Glorfindel. However the enemies outside of the shield were immediately burnt to crisp.

As soon as the flames ceased, Haldir held both his sword and his free hand up. He summoned lightning like he had never summoned before to come and his hand crackled with enormous power. A column of blue lightning shot both his sword and hand, forming into a giant column and it struck the Nazgul’s steed straight into its heart.

He saw the dragon give a wounded cry before a bright blazing white steed rammed into it from mid-air, the steed breathing smoke and fire from its nostrils. The dragon suddenly convulsed once in the air before exploding into pieces.

Dragon carcass rained down upon them, but Haldir didn’t care. He and Glorfindel, moving as one, advanced upon the now fallen Nazgul who stared at them defiantly with red-blooded eyes. He knew that this wasn’t the Witch King as obviously the height was that of an adult human, but this was probably one of the third-powerful Nazgul, he guessed.

As one they yelled a war cry and charged, Haldir with his lightning magic, increased ten-fold, Glorfindel with his Techno-Verno magic increased to who knew how much and attacked.

The Nazgul had no chance.

In feeble attempts to defeat them, the pitiful Irimage had casted a few deflection spells and some darker ones that drained souls and death magic, but even that was not enough to stop the combined forces of the two top Elven generals on a warpath.

Moments later, the Nazgul was dead, fried from both the inside and outside and stabbed multiple times by magical weapons.

Haldir eyed the enemies that had made a circle around them, but they made no move to come near them. Instead they were stepping back…slowly…and fear was in their eyes.

Suddenly, Haldir jerked back as he felt the magical transfer of the Nazgul slam into him. It was so big…so powerful! He reeled against that much power, even though he was sharing it with Glorfindel and squeezed his eyes shut. He had to transfer the power piecemeal before it consumed him.

Slowly he could feel its destructive force ebbing away…but suddenly he felt as if he was going to be sick. A cold clammy feeling washed down his whole body and he felt as if his soul would be permanently damaged…what was this? Was it from the Nazgul? It felt so foreign, so alien…so…evil…

Haldir staggered a bit before opening his eyes once more. He could feel the power transfer to his skull palm…he would be able to use more dark magic… Looking around he saw that the orcs and various dark mages that had been gathering around them were blindly retreating, but most of them fell at the hands of the mages who chased after them. There would be no escape for the assault force that Sauron had launched at them…

He wanted to go and pursue them as a second-in-command should do, but he felt rooted to this spot. The evil still swirled around him and he tried to push it away, but it taunted him with its presence.

“G-Glorfindel?” he managed to get out from a sour taste in his mouth, not brought on by blood, but by the evil.

“So much evil…if a Nazgul has it…what can Sauron hold?” Glorfindel whispered and as he met the Eldar’s steely gaze, Haldir had to wonder if Lady Galadriel was right to give the task to Legolas.

He wondered if his best friend would be able to withstand that much evil…and not succumb to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this came out so late…was working on a bunch of things. ^_^


	22. Concern

A willowy blonde woman with tresses of shoulder length hair pulled away from her eyes stared down into what looked like a bird bath. Except this wasn’t a bird bath. Silver gleamed highlights as the full moon peered through the window of one of the high office buildings of the headquarters of Lorien Incorporated, located in the White City.

The White City had no name, as its location was not known save for the few that remembered its ancient human name, but it was located in a mountainous region. But here stood the City of Hope, The-City-That-Will-Not-Be-Named, the City-That-Cannot-Fall…the city where everything against a growing evil was planned.

For Lady Artanis* of the Noldorian-Eldar bloodline, dating back to the Valian Tree days when the sun did not shine in Valinor, she was as strong-willed, stubborn, yet one of the wisest of her race. But she did not go by the name of Artanis anymore, nor did she go by her mother’s name for her, Nerwen.

Since the Ages of the Sun had begun, she used the name of Galadriel, the affectionate nickname given to her by her husband Celeborn. But the affectionate name now had new meaning. It drove fear into the hearts of evil and brought troops and Elves under her command. But she did not really care for command at the moment.

At the moment…all she cared was looking into Mirror. The bird-bath like thing was her Mirror, a relic she brought with her as she made her journey into Valinor back at the end of the Third Age.

Now as she stared into it, she saw the fierce battle waged in the Golden City. Elves and human defenders dying as mages killed them with their magic, but it looked like the enemy was losing slowly.

She saw Elrond display his unusual fusion of Vernomage and Technomage powers, his sons Elrohir and Elladan doing what they do best…even Anna Elanore defending herself and her fellow mages from attacks.

She waved a hand over her Mirror once more and this time she watched as the nine members of the Reincarnated fellowship battle their way up the Empire State Building of the Black City. They fought with relentless courage, taking down anything that stood in their way. Oh how she wanted to warn them of Shadow Elves creeping upon them…an ambush but she knew that Sauron’s power was too powerful at the moment to let her use her telepathy.

“They fight with more conviction than ever before,” Celeborn’s voice spoke softly from her side and his hand slipped into hers. She squeezed his for reassurance as she kept staring at the images of battle before her in her Mirror.

“They do not know what’s at stake, but they sense it,” Galadriel replied, “It was always them…the Fellowship that lead us…”

She waved her free hand over again and this time the battle returned to the Golden City. It zoomed upon a particular battle in which Glorfindel and Haldir were involved in. Galadriel quelled a small smile as she watched her faithful guard-general fight. Haldir was ever faithful and questioned nothing, even though she sensed at times that he didn’t really like her orders. But that was what also made him an effective commander to be put in charge after her old guard-general Thorwen perished in Angmar.

“You were right to send Haldir to Elrond,” Celeborn murmured thoughtfully as he too watched the battle unfold in her Mirror.

They watched as the Nazgul’s steed dived and was suddenly blown up to pieces. It was graphic and bloody, but Galadriel was already used to it…after all, it was war. But she noticed something…not about Haldir, but about the Elf that was fighting next to him…Glorfindel.

“Is he doing what I think he is?” even Celeborn was astonished and Galadriel felt her eyes widened with surprise.

“He’s returning…” she whispered, her eyes not seeing the bright light that surrounded Glorfindel, but the emergence of something else…a reborn soul…

But just as suddenly the power faded with the death of the Nazgul and Glorfindel looked his normal self. Gone was the light that surrounded him and his face was a bit confused but seemed to know where he was and what he had done. She reached out with her free hand and touched the Mirror briefly, wondering at the fleeting burst of power coming from the Eldar.

It had been so long… Memories were flooding into her of the Glorfindel she once knew, not the guard-general of Elrond, but the high commander, second only to Turgon, had died…but Mandos seemingly released the Eldar from his halls. When Glorfindel reappeared into the world, Galadriel had seen the fleeting bits of power appear and disappear from the elf…but as mages came into being, this fleeting power grew stronger and stronger and she knew that the Eldar was slowly regaining his memories, even though he didn’t know how to control it.

Suddenly she felt great evil from her Mirror and took her hand back, startled. She watched as the two guard-generals grimace terribly from the power transfer and realized that the Nazgul carried tremendous evil.

“Galadriel?” Celeborn asked, concerned.

“Evil…so much evil,” she whispered, staring at the charred remains of the Nazgul, “how could one creature possess so much…”

She waved her hand over her Mirror and it returned to its reflective state. Turning away, she walked over to the balcony jutted out from the massive castle-like building of Lorien Inc. headquarters. One of many, she stared out at the full moon and watched high clouds pass by. Her husband stood behind her, one hand still clasped in hers, giving her reassurance.

“Do you think it wise to give such a task to Legolas if you sense this much evil in a Nazgul?” Celeborn asked.

“I…don’t know,” for once in her life, Galadriel was unsure. She knew Legolas had innate power, an offset from his assassin days and she sensed that he had the potential to become greater, almost Eldar-like. But now…she feared for him. If he was to fall into shadow…then all would be lost.

Not for the first time, she stared up at the moon and cursed the Valar for the inability to resolve anything; their inability to cease their manipulative schemes. If the Valar destined the Earth and her world to fall into darkness, she wouldn’t hesitate to rebel again.

Feanor’s legacy must be stopped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * = Galadriel has different spellings of her father’s name for her…


	23. Power

Legolas yanked his magical dagger out of the body of a dying Orc and flicked blood off of its blade before dispelling it. Glancing up, his pulled his long hair back out of his face, noting that it was matted and sticky with blood. He wished he had a spare hair tie or something to pull his blonde hair back, but even that was lost a few levels back since their climb up to the spire of the Empire State Building, or now was called Barad-dur.

He knew that they were getting real close to Sauron’s lair, as the evil presence he had been feeling since they had landed in the Black City, was now almost overwhelming. It was taking a lot of his effort for his magically and Elvish attuned senses to block out the evil radiating from both the enemies he killed and Sauron’s power. Yet he felt something foreign…alien…familiar…

Something that he hadn’t felt since…well, since a long time ago. It beckoned to him, called to him…but he shied away at its magical and telepathic call. He didn’t want to go to the call because it radiated evil. It felt like Orcs, yet not like Orcs. He had a feeling that it was Shadow Elves, but he still wasn’t too sure as he had rarely encountered them.

What he knew of Shadow Elves were that they were former Vanyar and Eldar Elves that had never rebelled against the Valar during Feanor’s crossing and after the Third Age when almost all Elves passed into Valinor, they had encountered this child-like innocent race of their kin. But when great evil returned to their lands, the Vanyar elves were the first to turn to be twisted and molded into dark, evil elves, thus becoming Irimage Elves, or Shadow Elves as they were known.

“Everyone all right?” Alec asked, and Legolas noticed that the reincarnated human king was falling more and more into his role as Aragorn, leader, commander, and king of the race of Men. The mannerism and concern that was written on his bloodied, matted, and slightly haggard face was that of Aragorn, but the weapons and stance he was holding his sword was the combination of Alec Richard and Aragorn son of Arathorn. The odd thing was the fact that throughout most of their battles, he had watched Alec fall into a mage like stance, using magic almost subconsciously. Through the records he read, Legolas had never encountered the fact that this reincarnation of Aragorn was a Vernomage.

And he suspected that neither did Alec know he was a Verno. He seemed to not really remember what magic he used (if any) during their brief sporadic battles with Sauron’s dark forces.

“Yeah…I think so,” Fred replied, looking a bit winded after pulling the remains of an Orc off of himself. Sam put a comforting arm around him, helping him up and supporting him as any near-brother and best friend would do. Legolas noticed that the reincarnated Hobbit was looking a bit worse for wear – a probable effect of the darkness that Sauron was emanating.

“That wasn’t too bad,” Phil piped up, and next to him Matt also nodded his assessment and Legolas had to agree with the two college boys. They were getting their personalities back, especially since at their feet was a pile of Orc bodies, all slaughtered with efficient strokes. Apparently, they were taking all of their reincarnated memories and putting it to good use. There were a few sword strokes that looked to be of different periods, like feudal Japan, to the fencing era of the Romantic age.

“Easy for you to say Hobbit,” Gimli replied a bit grouchily, “you had fun dealing with Orcs and stuff. Look at me! Reincarnated as a tall figure, you think I can wield an ax like I used to? No…now I use regular swords that don’t even work for my hands and the only thing I can do is shoot guns and crossbows.”

“Shh! Quiet!” Gandalf suddenly hissed and Legolas attuned his senses back to their surroundings instead of the slightly sarcastic conversation the rest of their party was having. He noticed Ben shaking his head occasionally as if to get rid of some unseen presence and wondered if the man was all right. Perhaps the Healer Elves of Elrond didn’t get rid of the connection between him and that Undead after all…

“Be on alert-“

“Nazgul…” Ben suddenly hissed, seconds before a piercing scream reverberated through the air.

Legolas involuntarily flinched against the sound and finally sensed the presence of the Nazgul. Its dark presence touched his soul and he shuddered. The Witch-King…it had to be him… Only one other had ever felt this evil and that was Sauron. He hadn’t really felt the Witch-King’s permeating evil during his escape with Alec and the others the first time around in the Black City, but then again, being in the heart of evil now probably increased the Witch-King’s influence hundred-fold.

“It’s the Witch-King!” Fred suddenly hissed and he glanced back to see the Hobbit wincing in deep pain, clutching his shoulder that bore no wound, but the memory of one.

“There are more too…at least…three more of them,” Ben spoke quietly, but eerily, as if in a trance.

Putting a scanning spell over his eyes, Legolas scanned the area and saw that at least hundreds of Orcs and a few Shadow Elves were making their way towards them. They weren’t going to be going up any time soon. Suddenly, he focused on a far away mass of darkness that was at the far end of the long hall they were in. His spell told him that the Shadow Elves were summoning chimeras and dark creatures.

“Chimeras…and a few black dragons I think,” he told the others as he dispelled the spell and once again, fused the little silver gun into a composite bow. Pulling back on the string, a bluish arrow suddenly appeared, ready to be shot.

“Oh…wonderful,” Gimli groused grumpily, “this is just so fun…why don’t we all just sit here and watch as chimeras go on the rampage again?”

“Huh?” Phil looked confused as did Matt and Sam. Fred was in too much pain or too lost in his memories to notice.

Legolas smiled grimly as he knew what his best friend was talking about. Chimeras were the summons that destroyed Central Park and probably most of the Upper East Side due to a mage gang war. No one could stop them except for those who were high caliber Technos or Vernos. All around, people stopped and watched in horror as the Upper East Side of the Black City was literally trampled by the rampaging chimeras. He knew how bad chimeras were…he was one of the few called in by United States Special Mage Forces* to deal with the chimeras and their summoners.

“Something that happened when you were just young boys, Hobbits,” Gimli replied.

“Heads up, here they come,” Alec silenced all conversation as he drew out his sword. “Fred will you be all right?”

“I’ll…manage,” Fred said between gasps of pain as he drew out Stinger, the sister sword to Sting and propped himself up against a support beam, “just…keep them away from me, especially the Witch-King.”

“Ben?”

“Ditto with Fred,” Ben said, “but I have an indirect connection to him so it won’t be that bad…”

Legolas tuned out the rest of the conversation and drew up his store of magic. He had been absorbing Iri and Techno power since the fight down in the subways and usually by now he would be in his reserves of magical power, but with this many enemies falling at his hand, he felt that he had enough magic to outlast at least a week of mage fighting.

Glancing to his right, Legolas saw Gandalf, his white robes spotless, even though they trampled through sewage and dirt, raise his hands up and a tingle went through him. It felt reassuring, like he had a second skin, and wondered once again, what kind of magic the wizard was using. It sure as hell wasn’t from this world or from Mage-Link or Dust. It had to be a part of his human-Maiar form that was creating this magic.

Suddenly, an arrow whizzed close by his head and Legolas returned the volley with his own, just as Alec and Ben charged into the ranks of Orcs who were running at them. He targeted and sighted with his bow by instinct, hitting Irimages first before they could get their shields up and hitting Orcs along the way. He didn’t want to deal with Shadow Elves at the moment as he knew that they would have already brought their shields up, making it impossible for him to shoot down with his magically enhanced bow.

The earsplitting roar of chimeras suddenly resounded in the great hall, shaking loose a few pillars and dust, but it also scattered the Orcs and mages that were coming after them. Legolas’ eyes widened as he saw at least three chimeras run towards them, on a rampage and bowling over anything that got in their way.

“Scatter!” Ben and Alec shouted at the same time, diving for the rubble of pillars and broken furniture that lay on the side of the hall. The hobbits also scattered, with the exception of Phil who took down an Orc before Sam pulled him to cover.

Legolas pressed himself against a wall, releasing the fuse on his gun, and felt the rush of a breeze pass by him as the chimeras charged past them. He watched as they skidded to a stop and suddenly turned around, each of their fire-breathing heads growling. He hated chimeras. Of the entire summons the Shadow Elves had to do…this was one of them.

He rather take on the black dragons the Shadow Elves had summoned as their steeds, than face a chimera. Legend told that chimeras had the body of a goat, the head of lion, and the poisonous tail of a serpent. They were one of the fiercest creatures in myth and as summons possessed a great amount of independent magic of their own. The chimeras were primarily used as a desperate last resort attack by Irimages who had nothing to lose, it was because once summoned, chimeras acted on their own accord, like any other living animal would, and they hunted mages.

Their senses were tuned to the magical being that was around mages, and magic using, like subhumans, drew them…which didn’t bode well for either him or Gandalf. He watched as the chimeras’ eyes raked over towards him, but suddenly turn his head towards where the reincarnated hobbits crouched, Sam half-crouched protectively over Fred, alongside with Matt and Phil.

One of the three chimeras took a step forward towards them, its lion-head licking its chops hungrily while its serpentine tail with acid dripping off of it flicked and swished in the air. “They’re not…” Legolas whispered mostly to himself as he took a quick glance back at the distant forms of the Shadow Elves, seeing their ghostly pale Elven faces marred by red-glowing eyes, and fang like teeth. The realization belted him across the head and he jumped out from his position. “Hey! HEY!” He tried to get the attention of the chimeras-

“Get down laddie! Have you lost your marbles?!” Gimli shouted from his crouched position, but shut up as soon as another chimera stared at him, its bloodshot yellow eyes leering hungrily.

“HEY!” Legolas fired off a fireball at one of the chimeras, but the creature didn’t even flinch or stare at him. Instead it kept staring at where Ben and Alec were partially hidden. He realized that the Shadow Elves had full control over their summons, which meant that they were using the chimeras to kill the non-mages of the Fellowship! “Shit!” he cursed softly as he glanced around, noticing that the Irimages, Technomages, and Orcs who had originally scattered were now moving back to the battlefield, their eyes on him and Gandalf who had gotten up from his hiding place and joined him. Apparently the wizard had gotten to the same conclusion. They were seriously outnumbered if the rest of their party wasn’t able to fend off the Orcs while leaving them to deal with the mages.

He played with the idea of forming another nuclear-bomb like magic ball to blow up all the enemies, but he knew that he couldn’t absorb that amount of energy without putting himself at risk. He wished that he knew how to do Glorfindel’s Fire Circle magic as he had it described to him once by one of the twins.

“They will be protected,” Gandalf said softly and Legolas looked at him, puzzled.

“What?”

“That feeling before we fought…you felt it…it will protect them for a while,” Gandalf replied, giving him a small smile before holding both of his hands up. “ _Nîn o Chithaeglir, lasto beth daer, Rimmo nîn Bruinen dan in Ulaer! Nîn o Chitha_ -“

Legolas had been following Gandalf’s incantation to summon the water-horses of the ancient river Bruinen, with his own water-based magic, but suddenly stopped. He felt heavy all of the sudden and his heart felt so sad. It was as if all the happiness he had in the world was suddenly drained away from him, and the void that was left behind cried out.

He felt evil race from the corners of his mind, trying to fill up the void and though he didn’t know it, but he found himself on his knees, staring up and beyond the Shadow Elves. He dimly noticed that the others had also fallen on his knees, with the exception of Frodo who looked to be in great pain. Even the chimeras had stopped their advances and were looking sullen. Only Gandalf remained standing, but even he had a strained look on his face.

Darkness crept into Legolas’ vision and he fought against it. There was so much evil radiating from all around…

He looked up and saw the seemingly towering form of Sauron who stood in front of the Shadow Mages, his black cowled face staring out at all of them. Two blood-red ruby like eyes peered from the darkness inside the cowl.

Sauron the Irimage had arrived.

* * *

Fred’s world was just a haze of pain at the moment. But through that haze, a part of his mind knew that it was all an illusion, a memory, something that was once was, but now could never be. But that still didn’t make the pain go away.

He felt like he was pulled taunt on strings meant to rip him apart. His shoulder blazed with fiery pain from the phantom wound that he had received when he was a Hobbit from the Shire. With the Witch-King here, even hovering back next to the Shadow Elves, he could feel his influence. And that influence was greater than the Nazgul that had tempted him when he and his friends were escaping the Black City for the first time.

Suddenly, his world exploded beyond pain and Fred rolled to the ground, not caring if the chimeras that were hovering over him and Sam were staring at him. His mouth opened in a silent scream, a scream that his vocal chords could not process. It was as if everything around him became just red and white. He clawed for air, to fill his lungs, but it seemed that even the air was escaping him. Never before did he feel this much pain, this much suffering and it was overwhelming him.

He sensed that this was Sauron’s doing, but why him? Why did he have to relive his nightmare? His hands twitched of their own accord, especially his ring finger, the one Gollum supposedly bitten off before he fell into the fires of Mordor. His muscles tensed and spasm as Sauron reached into his mind.

“NOOOOOOOOOO!” the scream finally came to his throat and exploded, making his throat raw and dry. He desperately tried to block out Sauron’s evil influence. He knew that both the Witch-King and Sauron wanted to turn him, even now… He was the Ringbearer…and even now they were trying to take him into the darkness. The question was why? Why now? Why after all these years? Why him again?

 _Come to us…Halfling…_ Sauron’s seductive whisper wisped tendrils into his mind.

 _No! I will never submit!_ Fred thought back fiercely, _get out of my head!_

Sauron laughed evilly in his head, a cold heartless laughter that touched the core of Fred’s being. He was aware that he was still screaming, but inside he was in pain.

_In time…Halfling…in time…_

Fred lashed out once more with his mind. He wouldn’t submit! He wouldn’t!

* * *

Alec felt the oppressive feeling Sauron was giving off. Never before had he encountered the dark Maiar in such a way. Even the final battle in which Sauron was destroyed he hadn’t felt this evil. It had to be the fact that Sauron was in his lair, his stronghold that he drew this much evil to him.

He crawled to his feet, noting that the chimera that had been watching him and Ben was following his every move. Well, there were more important things to worry about. He drew his sword, Anduril, which Gimli had kept in his stash of illegal weapons in the Met, and walked forward, his legs feeling like lead. Each step his took was an effort and even breathing was an effort.

It was as if the evil that Sauron radiated was the very air, making oxygen a rare commodity. He forced himself to move, knowing that if he didn’t then it was game over for all of them. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Legolas getting up also, except the Elf had an unusual glow about him. He radiated a bluish hue, as if preparing for some kind of magical assault.

Suddenly, Alec staggered as Sauron’s gaze pierced into his and he stared into the Irimage’s ruby eyes, finding them so mesmerizing. He was vaguely aware that he had come to a complete stop and somewhere behind him, Fred was screaming in pain. Why did he have to worry about Fred? Where was he?

 _Welcome, Alec Richard…_ Sauron’s voice was seductive and he tilted his head.

There was something not right about this…why was he here? Even holding a sword? No…he should be back with the NYPD, talking about the latest mission. He had a job to do…he had to protect the populace of New York City from mages…

Mages? What were mages?

“ _May the grace of the Valar protect you…”_

Alec suddenly blinked, and staggered back. He glanced at the sword in his hand. It was…An…An-something…Anduril! Yes! That was it! Formerly the shards of Narsil, re-forged by Elven-smithy for him to carry with him on his mission with the Fellowship. This was the blade of kings! And he was a king! He was Aragorn, son of Arathorn and he was Alec Richard, NYPD, sworn enemy of Sauron and whatever darkness held his beloved Black City, New York City!

And…Alec’s gaze suddenly focused on a small boy standing in front of the three Shadow Elves. The Witch-King. David. The boy he had rescued only to find that this boy possessed the reincarnated spirit of the Witch-King of the Nazgul.

“Don’t…play your mind-games on me, Sauron!” Alec called to the Irimage who stared at him once more with ruby eyes before flicking them over to Legolas who suddenly halted and stood ram-rod straight. Alec turned his head with an effort as he felt the evil that had lifted while he was under the control of Sauron, back in full force, preventing movement. He could see Sauron’s eyes’ narrow while Legolas’ bluish hue grew…

“You…have come to slay me…Elf,” Sauron whispered, loudly and clearly through the hall.

Alec’s eyes widened as he realized what had happened during the exchange between Haldir and Legolas in the Golden City before they had left for this mission. He realized what might happen to Legolas.

“You know what you are doing is suicide?” Alec called over to his good friend.

He watched as Legolas’ eyes narrowed fractionally, “Yes.”

* * *

“Yes,” Legolas replied flatly to Alec’s statement. Of course he knew it to be suicide, but it was a mission entrusted to him by Galadriel. He would obey his employer’s words, and especially the words of an elvish kin. He knew that he was the only one qualified for this mission…and now he knew the real reason why.

All those missions he served with the U.S. government, and other foreign countries. They were to prepare him to absorb such a great amount of power. But he still wondered if he could do it…if he could not succumb to the evil that Sauron had within him.

He could feel Sauron trying to work his way through his mind, but he had encountered too many evil creatures with the same powers to be fooled. He immediately slammed his defenses on and blocked out Sauron. There was no way the Irimage would be able to influence him. He could only hope for the best from his friends, especially Gimli. He didn’t want to see the geologist/archaeologist hurt.

He knew that the chimeras were still a problem, but that had to be dealt with later. Now…now was his time to focus and kill Sauron. Eliminate him and the enemy would scatter and flee. Sauron was his priority and both Alec and Gandalf knew that.

He had the impulse to say something brave but nothing came to mind and he fell back to his routine as an assassin. He summoned up the power and strength; drawing upon his magical reserves…he knew that he would need it to combat Sauron. The problem was, was the fact that Sauron was an Irimage and had the ability to produce shields while he, a Technomage, wasn’t able to.

“Kill them all,” Sauron hissed, waving a cloaked hand and before Legolas could take the opportunity to attack, Gandalf suddenly blocked his path. _Deal with the lesser creatures…leave Sauron to me for now…_ he seemed to hear Gandalf’s voice in his head. Legolas was about to question the order, but realized that the wizard was going to weaken Sauron’s defenses so that he would be able to easily destroy the evil Maiar.

He turned around and put his hands together, and summoned forth a column of water-energy that he had been preparing with Gandalf before Sauron arrived. The column of water shot straight into one of the chimera’s maw and the creature suddenly reared its head and roared, but the roar was gurgled. Suddenly the summoned creature heaved violently and fell to the ground…where seconds later; it exploded in a giant fireball.

Legolas ducked and felt the heat pass over him, and singed his clothes and some of his skin. He got up again and without hesitation, blasted the two other chimeras with columns of water before they could react and moments later they too fell to the ground and exploded into fireballs.

Turning around, Legolas could feel the evil Sauron had oppressed them with lessen slowly, and saw Gandalf battling against Sauron like no Maiar had ever done.

“Take them down!” he heard Alec order as the rest of the Orcs and mages came charging after them, sensing that they were mobile again.

Legolas wanted to go after the Shadow Elves so they wouldn’t summon anything anymore, but he noticed that they had disappeared, leaving the Witch-King alone in the background on his black dragon steed. Just as suddenly the Witch-King rose up on his black steed and tipped its child-like head in a mock salute before flying away.

That was when the first mage reached him.

* * *

Gandalf raised his arm to ward off Sauron’s electric spell, letting the current pass through him unharmed. He blasted the former Maiar back with his staff and looked on with grim eyes. The orders given to him from Lorien were strict and to the point. It was the Children of Eru’s war. Not their war even though they were considered to the Eru’s children.

No, this was a war to end all wars and Sauron’s defeat was only the beginning of it. At times Gandalf wished he was able to turn into his true form, but he loved his human form too, feeling a lot humbled whenever he was in it.

And now…as a wizard, he was battling an Irimage. Not just an ordinary Irimage, but one who wielded the forgotten powers of a Maiar. How Sauron’s spirit got free from the Void, he did not know, but what he knew was to stop the mage from causing anymore destruction.

“You think you can defeat me, Olorin?” Sauron hissed, as he got up, wiping blood from his face. “You’re only human, not Maiar!”

“You forgot your place, Sauron,” Gandalf replied, circling warily. He ducked and held his hands out, fingers splayed as he created a shield, “you are only human too!”

“I am not HUMAN! I AM A GOD!” Sauron shrieked as a huge fire column blasted from his fingers, mixed with tendrils of pink lightning.

Gandalf grimaced as the blast forced him back a few steps. He could feel his shield weakening. For an Irimage to have so much power…it was almost Maiar-like! He never knew how much power Sauron wielded! And now? Gandalf pushed against his shield and suddenly thrust his white staff out. “I still wield the secret fire! I will not let you win!”

He countered Sauron’s blast of fire with his own and gritted his teeth against the effort. Oh how he wanted to let loose his full extent of his power, but then he would have destroyed his human form. He didn’t want that to happen as his full power would also destroy the Fellowship.

“The Rings of Power are gone Olorin! They are of no use to you!” Sauron taunted and Gandalf flinched as an invisible hand struck his head, knocking him to the ground. He reacted by swiping his hand at Sauron who also fell to the ground.

“They are of use when we wish it to be!” he replied, getting back up. He could feel that a few of his ribs were broken as his breath came in sharp gasps. He extended his hand once more and blasted Sauron who retaliated with his own blast of power.

Gandalf slowly got up, trying to hold Sauron’s power at bay. He felt his reserves weakening. Even Lorien never warned him of how much power Sauron held. The urge to transform into his real form was so tempting. But no! He couldn’t give into it!

“Come on…transform, you know you want to! Beat me! You know you can’t!” Sauron taunted even further and Gandalf narrowed his eyes dangerously.

“You have never seen me in my true form. Nor will you ever!” he replied in a cold voice before adding more power to his blast and threw Sauron back. “You are not a god, Sauron. You are only an Irimage. Your captor Morgoth holds your leash, does he not?”

“I am no one’s pet! I AM ME! I AM SAURON!” Sauron screamed and suddenly splayed out both hands and Gandalf sensed an enormous power emanating from the mage.

He braced himself for the assault but even that wasn’t enough. Gandalf flew back into a pillar hard and he groaned as he slammed to the ground. He blearily opened his eyes and saw Sauron tower over him. So much power in such a small human form…

“You are beaten Olorin! I will win! I AM A GOD! YOU HEAR? A GOD!!!!!” Sauron screamed as he floated up, towering over Gandalf.

“You are only human, Sauron!” a new voice broke through Sauron’s rant.

Gandalf whipped his head around to see Legolas point a silver gun at Sauron and fire.

* * *

With all of his years of training, Legolas fired his gun, formerly Techno-fused into his composite bow. He knew that magical weapons would have no effect on the Irimage and he hoped that the regular gun would, and he would be able to catch the Irimage off guard.

He watched as suddenly Sauron staggered back, a surprised look on his face before he turned and faced him, his ruby eyes screaming bloody murder. “You…how…dare-“

He made the movement to reach down to him as Legolas stared impassively at Sauron staggering down from his fight with Gandalf towards him with outstretched bloody hands. “How…” Sauron suddenly convulsed and fell to the ground. His face turned an ashen white and blood froth from his lips, mixing with spittle. The Irimage made a few more attempts to crawl to him to kill him, but his strength left him and he stayed where he was…

“I…am…a…” Sauron never got to finish his sentence as he hiccupped his last breath and died with a hissing sound.

“You’re only human Sauron,” Legolas replied coldly to the body before he flipped him over with the toe of his dirt covered boot. He saw that Sauron’s eyes were still opened and he had a surprised expression on his face.

Suddenly a glow began to form around Sauron’s body and Legolas knew that this was the power transfer that was inevitable. This had to happen…and he knew that the power was going to be great…greater than anything he had absorbed before. He mentally prepared himself…

The power transfer hit him full force and Legolas staggered back, stumbling over debris as he squeezed his eyes shut. He let loose a gasp of pain as he felt the power consume him. It was so much! So much power, more than he had ever felt! All from one person! He tried to rearrange his thoughts to transfer the power…he had to. He couldn’t die now…not with everything resting on him. This was the part that Galadriel and the others of the Resistance were counting on him to do. He couldn’t let Sauron become an Undead! No more puppets for Morgoth to control!

_Haha…you think you can beat me?_

Legolas started slightly at the foreign voice when he suddenly found himself in the brightly lit, but morning fogged woods. The woods looked familiar…where was he?

“Welcome back, my Prince,” a feminine voice spoke from behind and he turned around, startled to find himself in elvish clothes…and equally startled to see the one person who he had seen die. The person he cared for, the person that was his second-in-command…the person that had been betrothed to his best friend Haldir.

“Valiya?” he whispered, not really believing what he was seeing.

“Yes, my Prince Legolas…you have returned to Ithilien. We were worried about you,” his second in command was dressed in a red gown, her dirty-blonde hair tied back. She was out of her usual armor and was holding her arms open to welcome him back.

“Ithilien?” he questioned, looking around. No wonder the woods looked familiar. But wasn’t he back…

“My prince? Are you all right? Do you need to see a Healer?” Valiya walked closer and alarms began to ring in his mind. Something wasn’t right here…

He backed away slightly, holding his hands up, “No…I’m…fine, Valiya…but…I thought I saw you…die…”

“Die?” Valiya threw her head back and laughed a gesture that was very odd for the former Swordmaiden.

“Yes…you…died during the defense of Ithilien when Orcs came to raid it after the War of the Ring,” Legolas replied, a bit confused.

“No, my Prince. I live,” she replied then suddenly her face twisted into a sinister smile… “I live to take your body as mine!” Sauron’s voice suddenly burst from her mouth and Legolas’ eyes widened as she leapt at him.

He screamed as darkness over took his vision. The last thing he saw was Sauron’s ruby red eyes, laughing at him, then all was black.

* * *

Outside the power transfer, Alec watched worriedly as the swirling vortex engulfed Legolas. He hoped everything was okay and that the power transfer would be successful. The battle had been rough, but when Sauron had died, most of the Orcs and mages had fled, seeing their Lord dead.

He would have gone after them except he hadn’t the strength or heart to. He was exhausted beyond his reserves. He felt as if he was going to collapse soon and knew it to be the same with the others. Fred was sitting alone near a pillar, still recovering from his painful mind assault Sauron gave to him while Sam sat next to him, silent and sullen.

Phil and Matt were a bit away from them, tallying up their kills and generally trying to make light jokes of their situation. Gimli was tending to Ben’s wounds and occasionally looking at the vortex of power that Legolas was engulfed in.

Gandalf stood next to him and they both watched the power slowly fade away…

Suddenly as if someone shorted out a circuit the power transfer abruptly winked out and Legolas stood still for a split second before he collapsed boneless to the ground.

“Legolas!” Alec was the first to reach the Elf and touched the side of the Elf’s neck. He found a pulse, but it was weak and thready… The Elf’s skin was cold and clammy and he was extremely pale. “Legolas,” he called to the Elf but there was no response.

“Gandalf! What happened?” Gimli rushed over and nearly pushed Alec away.

Alec looked up towards the wizard who was staring down at the Elf. He noticed that his eyes were sad and troubled. “Gandalf?” he asked gently.

“He has fallen to shadow…” was the Maiar’s soft reply.

Stunned silence followed the pronouncement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * = When I finish The Shadow that Remains, I have a small Trilogy called the Shadow Elves Trilogy and it focuses on Legolas’ adventures and his missions as an assassin. ^_^
> 
> Author’s Notes:  
> Wow…longest chapter to date. Oh my god. Hope you enjoyed it so far! ^_^ More is to come!


	24. Shadow

Haldir was tired and exhausted from the night-long battle. Technically it was the wee early morning hours and though Elves did not sleep, he felt very human at the moment. His bones and muscles ached with the strain of so much magic and non-magic fighting he had to do, especially after destroying a Nazgul. He could tell that the other Elves in the Situation Room also felt the same, except those that had not participated in the battle. The humans that had fought with them had been given accommodations to sleep in and now only the blue glowing eyes of Elves proceeded in the room.

Former General Ruthersfield wasn’t too happy that he wasn’t to be part of the post-battle briefing, but Elrond insisted that the humans get rest, as all of them had noticed when the dark creatures were retreating that a white column of light appeared in the distance, signaling that Sauron had been defeated by the Fellowship. At least that was the good news…Haldir hoped.

He hoped that all members of the Fellowship were still alive and not that it was a suicide attack that had killed Sauron. Most of all, he hoped that his best friend was all right. After all, if anything happened to Legolas, it was his fault, and his alone. He had assigned Legolas the mission of destroying and absorbing Sauron’s powers. In no way, whatsoever, would he let the blame fall on his Lord and Lady.

“We’ve counted up the number of dead and wounded and sufficient to say, most of the dead were non-mages. Many of them tried to take on mages and suffered the consequences,” Glorfindel reported from a small clear tablet that he was holding and Haldir glanced over to see Elrond nod his head a bit sadly. The holographic projections of Galadriel, Celeborn, Thranduil, and Cirdan also looked a bit disturbed.

“Humans were always impulsive,” Cirdan commented, his usual melodic voice now soft and worried. “How many Elf mages were lost?”

“At least 150 from the Silver City Army,” Glorfindel replied, “and 528 from the Golden City. Human casualties were higher. General Ruthersfield’s army suffered heavy losses. Even their mage forces were limited.”

“They never encountered Nazgul before…” Firfenion commented a bit acidly and Haldir opened his mouth to reprimand him before Thranduil beat him to it.

“None of us have ever encountered the Nazgul in this form before. You would want to shut your mouth before anything else happens,” Thranduil’s eyes blazed with anger, even in his holographic form.

A slight shudder crept down Haldir’s spine. Even though he and the Elven Lord were about the same age, give or take a few hundred years, he knew what bloodline Thranduil came from and also recognized the piercing gaze that once belonged to the great Elven Lord, Thingol. Thranduil certainly did inherit his kin’s mannerisms and looks.

Apparently, Firfenion was chastened by his father’s words and fell silent, staring sullenly at the ground, unable to meet his father’s gaze. Haldir wondered if Thranduil’s anger was from the loss of troops or from the fact that he had a huge fight with his other son. He would put money on the latter than the former.

“The scattering of Sauron’s forces indicate that most of them are fleeing to Barad-dur. This gives us time to regroup and send our assault team to the White City. Galadriel, Celeborn, this will have to be in your domain. With the first of the two towers gone, Morgoth does not have anyone to rely on except himself,” Elrond said quietly as he brought up the projection of the map and Haldir noticed that many of the red dots were fleeing from the bright white and green that was the Elves and humans, all shining brightly along the Eastern Coast of the United States of America.

“We will help you in defeating Morgoth,” a soft voice suddenly spoke from behind the group and they turned to see Lorien, standing in his human form, his hands spread out in a gesture of peace and tranquility.

Haldir nearly bowed in the presence of the Vala, but remembered the words his Lady and Lord told him about the Valar. They were not to be trusted as they were very manipulative and deceitful at times. They were the ones to indirectly cause the great migration of Noldor and other Elves from Valinor to Middle Earth back before his time.

Apparently, most of the other Elves had heard Lady Galadriel’s words and also stood a bit stiffly, while some of the younger Elves scoffed at the presence of the Vala.

“Lorien,” Elrond greeted sagely, “you have come to offer your help?”

“Not in the sense that you mean, Lord Elrond,” Lorien replied, his crystal green eyes taking everything in. “The Valar and Lord Manwe have been debating whether or not to help you in your quest to rid the Earth of this evil. Since you have proven yourself in destroying Sauron in this Age, we will aid you in defeating Morgoth.”

Galadriel’s holographic projection, along with Cirdan’s both balked at the statement and looked mildly surprised. It was a bit unnerving to see the two oldest Elves look surprise, if rarely, at anything.

“The Valar have rarely helped us at all, why might you be so keen at the moment to do so?” Galadriel asked serenely.

“Ah…Altarial, daughter of Finarfin…” Lorien faced the projection, “you, like your kin who left Valinor, have distrusted us for so long. Yet at the end of the Third Age of the Sun, we allowed you and your exiled kin to return to Valinor. Why do you scoff us now, Altarial?”

“I returned and found that evil still resided in Valinor. Wherever there is good, evil will always be there. Temptation still resided in Valinor. You did nothing to change what Morgoth had originally spoiled. You’ve only left it to fester and grow among my kin and the Vanyar,” Galadriel said gravely, “you are willing to help us rid Morgoth, but will you leave his evil doings on the Earth once more?”

“He will leave at least some evil, Galadriel,” Cirdan suddenly spoke up, his eyes narrowed and focused on Lorien, “as you had said, where there is good, evil still resides. It might not be as powerful or as concentrated as Morgoth, but there will always be a form of evil. That was what Iluvatar declared so long ago…before he created us.”

“Perceptive Cirdan of the Teleri, the Great Ship-Wright,” Lorien, “but will you now dismiss our offer of help?”

“We will not, but we will consider your terms after this war is over,” Cirdan replied and was about to say more when a buzzing came from one of the comm. systems in the Situation Room.

Glorfindel, who was closest to the comm. system, rerouted the call to a main projection screen. Haldir blinked in surprise as he saw the haggard, bloodied face of Alec Richard, who, at the moment, looked strikingly like Aragorn son of Arathorn after he had ran through the Mines of Moria with the rest of the Fellowship.

“Mission accomplished,” Alec said, his voice cracking from exhaustion, “Sauron was destroyed…”

There was hesitation in his voice, and ice began to form in the pit of Haldir’s stomach. There was something about Alec’s tone he didn’t like and was dreading it. Had something happened to Legolas? Was Sauron’s power and spirit not absorbed, enabling Morgoth to take control and create and Undead Sauron?

But how could it be? They all saw a bright white column of light extend from the New York City area in the aftermath of the battle to defend the Golden City.

“But we have a problem,” Alec continued, his voice grim, “Legolas did absorb Sauron’s powers as Gandalf could not…but…

“Gandalf said that he has fallen to shadow.”

Complete silence reigned in the Situation Room.

* * *

The Fellowship, after making their way down the mostly destroyed Empire State Building, had hijacked a lone police hover copter and had been flying towards the Golden City when they were met half way by General Ruthersfield’s hover copters and escorted into the city.

When they landed, they were surrounded by Elven healers who immediately began to cast healing spells on them. Gimli was jostled around so much that he began to push the Elven healers away, snarling at anyone who touched him. He tried to look back for Legolas’ prone, lifeless body, but it was surrounded by a group of healers.

“Hey!” he cried and tried to make his way towards his best friend’s body so he could be near him, but somehow the Healers held him back and he watched as the group suddenly rose and caught a glimpse of them putting Legolas on a stretcher. “Hey!!!”

The Healers’ apparently didn’t hear him or didn’t acknowledge his calls, but instead rushed away, into the building, passing by all of the other Elves who had come out to welcome the Fellowship back. Gimli saw Haldir and a few other Elves he didn’t recognize step out of the way as the Healers barreled through. He could see worry in their eyes…Even Elrond stepped out of the way of the Healers, and fell in step behind them.

Perhaps the great healing powers of the Elven Lord would be enough to help his best friend rise from the shadow, Gimli wondered. Suddenly, a tingle ran through him and he turned and glared at the Elf who was trying to cast a healing spell on him. “Would you quit it?!” he snarled at the Elf who raised an eyebrow and gave him a pointed look, but then went back to casting the spell, all but oblivious to his protestations.

He pushed away and threaded his way through the crowd that was surrounding them. Catching a glimpse of Anna pushing past the crowd of Healers, he watched as she launched herself into Alec’s arms, both embracing each other fiercely. He ducked underneath an elbow, a hard thing for him to do as he was as tall as the Elves surrounding them, and finally made his way out of the crowd of Elven Healers.

Catching his breath for a second, Gimli looked up and saw the tail end of the group that was spiriting Legolas’ prone body away. “Hey! Wait!” he called after them and jogged after them, feeling the shortness of his breath return. Certainly he was a human now, but even after the horrific and exhausting battle against Sauron, he was still in no condition to be running around, especially since he had a long history of asthma related problems.

He gasped in a deep breath and made his seemingly wooden legs move and lurched forward. He couldn’t see the Elves now, but he guessed that they were taking Legolas to the Healing Hall/Medical Bay; where it was, he didn’t really have a clue. Maybe one of the security or another Elf would be able to direct him to the Healing Hall.

Stopping once more by the security guards’ area, Gimli leaned against a column, feeling sharp pain in his chest each time he moved. His asthma was getting bad…real bad… _Please God, please keep him safe…keep Legolas alive and healthy_ , he thought a quick prayer to the Lord. _Keep me healthy_ , he added as an afterthought. Though not overtly religious, he was a born Protestant, converted to Methodist, and then dropped to a non-denomination when he found their practices too confining.

He didn’t really believe all the Valar nonsense, though he did acknowledge the fact that he was reincarnated, it was just that he was human and humans had their own minds. He didn’t like anyone manipulating him or ordering him around (which was why he chose the field of geology and archaeology), and had a suspicious feeling that the Valar were way too manipulative.

“You shouldn’t be pushing yourself like this George Griston,” a voice behind him made him jump slightly and he winced in pain as his wounds, minor as they were, but still hurt like hell, twisted and pulled. He turned around and saw Haldir, dressed in what looked like a variation of the ancient elvish armor, hold out a hand to him.

Though he didn’t really know the Elf that well, and disliked him when he first met Haldir in Lothlorien, he respected the bond the Elf had with Legolas. But even so, during Legolas’ reign of Ithilien and the frequent visits by Haldir and his group of Lothlorien Elves, he didn’t really get to know the Elf.

“Hnn,” Gimli grunted a reply as he was still trying to steady his breathing. “You’re so calm,” he coughed slightly, “in light of Legolas’ condition. I figure you would be more concerned…”

He glanced up to see something akin to anger flash in Haldir’s eyes. But then, a curious expression lit his face and Gimli frowned. Why wasn’t Haldir going after the Elves that spirited their friend away? Why was he coming to him…was it for support? Or was it something else?

Suddenly it dawned on Gimli the reasoning. Haldir knew! He knew that something like this was going to happen to Legolas! That’s why they were talking to each other before the mission! That’s why Haldir has such a resigned look to his face. _He knew_!

“You knew,” he stated flatly and watched a small almost imperceptible nod appear. “You knew that something like this was going to happen to Legolas and yet you did not even think to tell me?!” his voice rose to a thunderous roar by the time he was through. Asthma forgotten, Gimli let the anger that was growing in him consume him and he picked the Elf up by the front of his armor, mildly surprised that he could do it, though anger quickly returned.

“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME?!” he yelled, “You knew that Legolas was going to be consumed by Sauron’s power, didn’t you?! That’s why you talked to him before we left! You knew!” He seethed and watched as Haldir frowned and suddenly his arms felt like lead and before he even knew what was happening the Elf was back on the ground, and his arms felt like jelly.

He realized that Haldir had cast a spell on him and was about to slam him back up the column when Haldir spoke in a freezing calm, but angered voice.

“Yes,” Haldir replied his face stony and his eyes boring into Gimli’s – Gimli shuddered slightly at molten anger in them. “I knew…I knew that there would be the _possibility_ that Legolas might fall into shadow.

“I knew and I told him that he must be the one to kill Sauron. I was the one responsible for assigning him that mission. But…” Haldir released the spell and Gimli could feel his hands and arms once more, “you also have to understand. I wouldn’t needlessly endanger my brother, my comrade, my friend if I didn’t know the consequences. He knew the consequences and he knew the cost of failure.”

But Gimli wasn’t done yet. He gritted his teeth and exploded, “But why him?! Why not some other Elf?! Why Legolas?! If you knew the possibilities, why did it fall to you to assign him this _suicide_ mission? What made him so goddamn special that you have to go and give him this?”

“Because he has the ability to! Because he is the perfect assassin for it!” Haldir yelled back, but Gimli was beyond caring, “Because Lady Galadriel ordered me to do it!” There. There was the truth. The truth that Haldir had been trying so hard to hide. He vowed that he would not mention anything that would be able to place the blame on his Lord and Lady…but now…

Gimli stepped back, shocked, and stared at Haldir like he was some foreign being. The Lady Galadriel… She… _wanted_ Legolas to kill Sauron? Impossible! No! It just wasn’t true! A brief image of the ethereal beauty that was Galadriel popped into Gimli’s head and he shook his head, clearing the image away. “No…” he murmured, stepping back further, “that isn’t true,” he looked up and stared at Haldir, “you’re lying…you’re-“

“It is true,” Haldir’s eyes were not full of molten anger anymore, instead they were full of sadness. The same sadness he had seen in many Elves during his time in Lothlorien. “The Lady of the Light did bid this task to be done by Legolas…”

But…. “Why?” was the only word Gimli could come up with as numbing shock was still coursing through his battered body. He could feel his anger fading away and his asthma replacing it, though this time it was much more strained and he felt very weak. He met Haldir’s gaze with his own, and wondered what possessed the beautiful and sincere Galadriel to order such a task.

“You’ve never met the militaristic side of Lady Galadriel, have you?” Haldir asked and Gimli blinked. So Tolkien’s books on Galadriel were right…she did have a militaristic side then… “She saw something in Legolas that she did not see in others. With the utmost reluctance, she gave that task to him and to him alone. What she saw in him, I do not know and I think I will not know for the longest of time.

“But…why not Gandalf? I mean, he said that he was restrained by the rules of Maiar and Valar…what does that mean?” Gimli asked.

“The Valar’s workings are not for me to know. I just only hope that one day, Gandalf can explain it to us why the Valar are so manipulative…” with that Haldir left Gimli by the column and headed back to the Situation Room, but the man was too numb by recent revelations to even notice that he was gone.

All he could do was curse at the ineptitude of the Valar and Maiar. If only they would absorb Sauron’s powers! Then Legolas would not have to suffer like this… Gimli was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t notice a few Healers approaching him and casting their spells on him. But even as he collapsed into blissful unconsciousness by the Healing spells they had cast on him, all he could see was the determination in his dearest friend’s eyes, mixed with the sadness in Haldir’s eyes.

* * *

In the Situation Room, the holographic projection of Thranduil was exploding into fits of anger. Even though it was hours after he found out that his estranged son was incapacitated, he was still fuming and pacing around the holographic board.

“Calm yourself Thranduil,” Cirdan was saying to the projection.

“Calm down! How could I?! My son’s…” Thranduil trailed off and continued pacing. Only the five executive members of Lorien Inc. were present, all others had retired to either their quarters or to the Healing Hall for treatment. The only member of the five that was missing was Elrond, but he had gone with the prone body of Legolas to the Healing Hall.

The door to the Situation Room suddenly slid open and all three holographic projections and Cirdan looked up to see Haldir walk through. Though technically the Noldor-Teleri Elf was not really privy to their plans, right now was an exception.

“Did you tell him?” Galadriel asked, and Cirdan had a feeling that she was talking about the reincarnated form of Gimli son of Gloin.

“Yes…he understands at the moment, but…he will begin to doubt the words of the Valar,” Haldir replied and Cirdan raised an eyebrow. No doubt about that, he thought mostly to himself.

“The Valar are allies at the moment, but we’ll have to test their resolve before we destroy Morgoth. If they are not with us, then we will have to rely on ourselves,” Galadriel replied and though Cirdan did not voice his opinion, he silently agreed with her.

After all, he had been born and aware when she led the revolt of the Noldor with Feanor, and subsequent revolts against Morgoth and Sauron through the Ages.

“The Valar are planning something. What, I do not know, but they are planning,” Galadriel said in her crystal voice, the voice of a leader.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize if this chapter sounds a bit off-kilter. It’s been at least a month since I wrote anything and I’ve been out of practice. Hopefully the next chapter will be up soon. Btw, college has started so chapters will be slow.


	25. Preparation

It was only four days, but for Alec, it felt like four years. Four days since they destroyed Sauron; four days since Legolas absorbed Sauron’s powers and fell into shadow; four days and no word on his condition. Even Elrond, the greatest Healer, even by Elvish standards, could not find anything wrong save the surface wounds inflicted onto Legolas during the Fellowship’s battle from the sewers all the way up to the top-most levels of the Empire State Building.

Lorien refused to help figure out what was wrong with Legolas and stated that he was, “not allowed to interfere with the complexities of the Children of Iluvatar.” _Yeah, complexities my ass_ , Alec thought darkly as he stared into the black liquid of coffee he was holding. He was sitting in one of the many libraries in the Lorien Inc.’s building complex, modernized to human standards of a coffee-bookshop type of deal, and just staring into space.

He needed coffee as a wake-up call, especially since he wasn’t able to get much sleep, with his wounds still healing and his thoughts lingering on the Elf’s condition. Though it was only at least three days since Lorien’s statement, the resentment from the Fellowship to the Vala was evident whenever they caught a glimpse of the Vala, wandering the halls.

Everyone, except for Gandalf had exploded into anger, with Gimli almost taking a swipe at the Vala. He was restrained by Gandalf who explained to them that getting angry was not the way. Gandalf had said that Lorien had his own agenda to tend to and that though he was willing to help, he couldn’t because of the rules bound against him by Manwe, the lord of all Valar. Whatever the rules were, neither Lorien nor Gandalf would say and that left a lot of bitter feelings, including in some of the Elves – especially those that knew Legolas well. Firfenion, to whom Alec was surprised that Legolas had a younger brother, seemed especially volatile to the Valar, but didn’t really show it.

“Hey,” Anna’s voice startled him and he snapped out of his musings to see her sit down in front of him, her hands wrapped in a cup of what looked to be some kind of berry-flavored tea. “You okay?”

“Yeah…” Alec nodded wearily, “just…tired…pissed…you know, the usual.” He attempted to grin, but somehow his muscles wouldn’t cooperate with him. He looked up to see a comforting smile on Anna’s face. Her hand reached out and took his and she squeezed it gently to let him know that she knew how he felt.

“Don’t worry. Legolas will pull through. If there’s anything that I know, is that he won’t let evil consume him,” she replied, “don’t listen to the words of the Valar. They don’t know shit.”

Even Alec had to smile at her candid statement. God how he loved Anna so much. She had the ability and charm to brighten even the worst of his days and make him feel alive when he was so tired. “How do you manage it?”

“Hmmm?”

“How do you manage to be such a bright ray of sunshine?” he smiled at her and kissed her knuckles before letting both of their hands rest on the table top.

“It’s just me,” she replied, “its got to be a Verno trait.”

“Well, whatever it is, thank you,” Alec sincerely replied before he leaned over and gave her a lingering kiss. As the kiss ended, he sat back in his seat and let a small smile play over his lips. Anna blushed slightly, but regained her composure.

“Are you sure you should do that in a library? I mean someone could have been watching us,” she whispered.

“So?” Alec felt more relaxed now and he could sense that many of his problems were taking a back seat to him just being with Anna. She was a bright ray of sunshine, _his_ bright ray of sun.

“So? I mean there are Elves here. We, I mean, they aren’t too vocal or keen on giving displays of affection in public,” Anna said but Alec had caught her slip. She had said ‘we’ before correcting herself.

He frowned slightly, “Why should it matter? We’re humans after all.”

“I know…but…” the smile on her face was gone and was replaced by a troubled look, “Alec…” she suddenly leaned close to him and her voice dropped to a breathy whisper, “Alec…I…can’t really control the Arwen part inside of me. It’s as if she’s merging with my own personality so fast that I seem to fall into different patterns at times. I mean, when I was talking with Elrond, I was myself, but then there were times during my talk in which I felt the Arwen side reaching out to him. I…don’t know what to do…”

Alec was at a loss. He didn’t really know how to deal with Anna’s reincarnated side. He didn’t really feel the Aragorn personality of him trying to take over during the Fellowship’s mission to assassinate Sauron, yet during times of battle, it felt so natural. He probably guessed that he and his former incarnation were so similar in personalities that it wasn’t hard to ‘merge’ with it.

But for Anna…he wondered if it was because Arwen, from what he knew and read in Tolkien’s books (he had read them but didn’t tell Anna just to infuriate her), was so passive and loved her father Elrond deeply, was a direct contrast to what Anna was. If Alec had to hazard a guess, Anna’s personality was much like the Arwen personality in Peter Jackson’s movie version (which he sort of liked, but didn’t really dwell on it).

So if both personalities were clashing, then Anna was in serious trouble sorting out her thoughts. He wondered if it had something to do with Elrond, but didn’t really know.

Taking her hand into his once more, he rubbed her fingers over and over again in a soothing gesture, “Hey…its okay. Just let everything go. Perhaps you felt so much animosity towards Elrond, yet you also loved him at the same time. Don’t dwell on it…Just…put the respect that Arwen had for her father, in you so you don’t have to fight it.”

“But…I don’t respect him. He thinks that I am his daughter, but I’m not!” Anna said, tears brimming on her eyes.

“He lost you a long time ago to me. He knows that and though he did not really wish it, he knew what was to happen to the kin of Luthien. As a father only wishing to see his daughter once more, he wishes you the best, but respects your right to your own life now,” Alec said then suddenly sat back and blinked. Where the hell did that come from? It didn’t sound like words he would use… He wondered if the Aragorn part of him suddenly took over and spoke those words…

Apparently Anna thought of the same thing as she was staring at him in shock, but then her features turned to understanding. She took his hand and kissed it, “Thank you…Alec…Aragorn.”

* * *

Matthew Biggs wanted to sleep. He wanted to sleep badly, but no, they decided to wake him and his three other friends up to some kind of emergency meeting. As he crawled out of the fluffy Elvish beds, for which he was grateful for such comfort, he could feel his muscles pull slightly, still some lingering pain from the battle four days ago.

Looking blearily at the digital clock on the mantle, he noticed that it was only 8 at night. _Ugh…I hate this_ , he groaned softly to himself as he quickly changed into his clothes, running a hand through his thoroughly mused brown hair. He and his friends had gone to sleep because of medications given to them by the Elves to help their healing process. He opened the door and met his friends outside. He noticed that all of them looked equally exhausted and had irritated looks on their faces.

“Sup?” Phil greeted a bit cheerfully while suppressing a yawn, “anyone know what this is about?”

“Probably s-something about Sauron or maybe Legolas,” Fred replied, rubbing his eyes.

Matt noticed that Fred was still a bit pale from his encounter with Sauron and the Nazgul during the final battle with the evil dark lord, but otherwise looked healthy as ever. He wondered if now that Fred gotten the memories of Frodo Baggins back he was going to bear the phantom wound forever. It would suck, he admitted mostly to himself, but it would also enable Fred to get the courage he needed to face whatever evil was left.

“Hope you’re right,” Sam agreed and Matt nodded his assessment. He really hoped that the Elf was all right.

It was a bit frightening to see all of the Elves with glowing blue eyes of mages, and even more of a shock to see Legolas, once their companion in the Fellowship, with equally, if not brighter, blue glowing eyes. Even now, Matt wasn’t used to the fact that _all_ Elves were mages and _all_ Elves had glowing blue eyes and most had skull-palms. He rarely saw an Elf without a skull-palm.

“Come on, let’s go,” Fred gestured for them to follow him and though Matt could feel the presence of his former incarnation, Merry, reaching out for leadership, he conceded that Fred was always the leader of their group, no matter if Fred was Frodo or someone else, he was always the leader.

They quickly arrived at the Situation Room, to which they had no trouble finding and noticed that it was bustling with Elves running from station to station while a knot of Elves were hovering over a projection of a map of the world. All four former hobbits stared in awe at the room, its control panels and lights, the high-tech babble of it all.

A few Elves dressed not in robes or business suits that Matt was used to seeing in the halls of the Lorien Inc. building, but in armor reminiscent of the Third Age brushed past them – so fast that he had to leap out of the way, lest be knocked down.

“Hey! Frank!” Phil suddenly called and Matt turned his gaze away from the blinking lights of the control panels to see Phil waving to where Frank and Liz came in and the two spotted them and came over.

“What are you doing here?” Liz asked, and Matt noticed that her hair was a bit frazzled, but otherwise she looked every inch like the radiant Eowyn, shield maiden of Rohan.

“We got a call for an emergency meeting here,” Phil replied, “dunno what’s going on though.”

“So did we, except-“

“Hi guys,” Ben suddenly appeared next to Frank, “g’evening college hobbits…do you know what’s going on?”

Matt shook his head, “I don’t know…something about an emergency meeting, I guess.”

“Oh,” was the reply from Ben who shrugged and looked around.

As minutes passed by, a few more Elves came in, Elves Matt didn’t really recognize, but noticed that they had similar armor, but in different colors. He hazarded a guess that the color denoted where the Elf’s city was. Alec came in along with Anna, with Gimli following close behind them.

Then Gandalf came in followed by Elrond who held his hands up, “May I have your attention please.”

The room’s conversation died down except for those at the communication stations who continued their conversation to whomever they were having them with. When it was as silent as can be, Elrond moved forward towards the projection unit and Matt stood on his toes trying to see beyond the sea of tall Elves and humans.

Luckily though, when Elrond activated the projection, this time a holographic map of the Golden City, it rose above everyone’s heads. “The Nazgul, even without their master around, have decided to attack the Golden City once again, as a last ditch attempt. We know that their bonds of slavery have transferred to Morgoth when Sauron was destroyed, and so Morgoth believes that we were weakened enough in the first wave to launch another one,” said Elrond.

“Firfenion and his Silver City Elves will be guarding the pillars once again. General Ruthersfield?” Glorfindel took over.

“Sir,” was the curt reply and Matt blinked. He had seen the Army general quite a few times, but never this close. If he never knew that Edward Ruthersfield was Eomer, he wouldn’t have guessed that the close cropped severe looking Army general was in fact, the reincarnation of Eomer, son of Eomund.

“You’ll be providing support to Firfenion and his troops,” Glorfindel said and Matt saw the general nod.

For Matt, it felt odd seeing Eomer’s reincarnation like this. Gone was the King of Rohan, and in place of that, a hardened war general. But there were a few mannerisms that he recognized to be solely Eomer’s and it comforted him a little to know that his friend was still inside.

“Haldir, Rinaran, and I will command the front line army,” Glorfindel continued, “any questions?”

There was a moment’s of silence and Matt was about to ask what about them when Glorfindel said, “Good. The enemy will be arriving in about three hours. Get to your posts.”

The surge of Elves and a few humans that left the room forced Matt and the others to slide up against some consoles and he dimly heard Phil yelp as someone treaded on his foot.

“What about us?” Fred asked as soon as the room cleared and all that was lingering were a few Elves, including Haldir, a female Elf whom Matt thought was probably Rinaran, and Glorfindel.

“You, young hobbits are going to be staying with me,” Gandalf’s voice suddenly boomed behind them, and Matt turned, startled. He glanced to his left but didn’t see Frank, Liz, or Ben and guessed that they must have left with the crowd of Elves and humans from the Situation Room.

“What are you going to do Gandalf?” Sam asked.

“Though many in this facility will be participating in the battle, you hobbits will not. Partially because you are only college students and have such a vigorous life ahead of you,” Gandalf smiled at them, “you will be staying close to me. Though I will help Elrond in defense of the Golden City, you will be in the Healing Hall incase the Elves there need your help.”

“But…we can fight! We know how to! You’ve seen us when we fought Sauron!” Fred looked a bit put off.

“Fredrick, it is you the Nazgul want…and you too Matthew,” Gandalf’s blue eyes stared at him and Matt stepped back involuntarily at the intensity of them.

“Me?” he blinked in surprise. He knew that the Nazgul wanted Fred because of the connection he has with the One Ring, but him? That had to be some kind of crackpot joke.

“You were the one with Lady Eowyn to kill the Witch-King, weren’t you?” Gandalf asked quietly and Matt’s eyes widened. Oh…so that was the reason… “They want revenge,” Gandalf finished in an even quieter voice. “They want all of you former hobbits. Sam, you were the one to help Frodo in his quest – the anchor of all. Phil, the deception that you were the Ringbearer angers them.”

“All right,” Fred said after a few minutes of silence, “we’ll agree. We won’t participate in the battle…”

“Good…then come with me. I will show you what needs to be done in the Healing Hall,” Gandalf switched his white staff to his other hand and gathered them towards him. Together, they walked towards the Healing Hall.

* * *

Elizabeth Ruthersfield quickly made her way towards the Armory. There was no way anyone would tell her that she would not be able to participate in this battle. The first one was a nightmare as she had to help treat the wounded, especially those from her brother’s army. She didn’t want to treat the wounded, she wanted to go out and fight – but for the love of her brother she didn’t. Now, she didn’t care if he made an excuse for her not to fight. There was no way she would be left behind this time.

She was a detective in the NYPD and a damn fine officer. She would not waste away in the Healing Hall. As she got to the Armory she could hear the pre-battle jitters from those changing into Elvish armor or looking at weapons from the outside doors. She paused just before the doors… Was this the right thing to do? Yes.

Taking a deep breath and releasing it, she opened the door and walked in, heading towards the weapons area. Though her first time in the Elven Armory, she wasn’t surprised at the numerous weapons they had. It felt comforting, somehow, to know that she was in a place that wrought the best weapons.

Passing by a few Elves, she noticed with faint surprise that some of them were women, all decked out in armor, and they were laughing with each other. She guessed that they were the modern-day sword or shield maidens. A pang of longing struck her and she wished that she was an Elf, and would be able to fight. Because as all Elves were mages, they were allowed front-line battles. She was just a human with no mage powers. But she was also reincarnated so wasn’t that worth something to her brother? She was able to fight for him or with him, but he kept shielding her.

She hated that protection. It made her feel weak and there were times when even her fiancé, Frank would do the same. She didn’t want to be caged up and put on a shelf for all to look at. That was why she did detective work for the NYPD. It gave her at least some field training without the mortality risks of a full fledged field officer.

Something caught her eye and she picked up a short sword with a fine glittering handle…

“No, you don’t want that. It’s too pretty to be used for this battle,” a voice behind her suddenly spoke and she spun around, surprised. Before her stood a female Elf decked out in the red-gold armor of the Golden City. She had bright blue-green eyes that her blue glow didn’t really put out, and her long dirty blonde hair was tied behind her. “Here,” the Elf dug around the weapons table and pulled out a sword that was gleaming silver, but had a sturdy pommel and looked to be very light. “Try this.”

Liz took the sword and hefted it in her hand. It felt light and it felt good. “Thank you…I’m sorry, do I know you?” The Elf looked vaguely familiar and she didn’t really know where to place her face.

“My name is Rinaran and I am second to Glorfindel,” the female Elf extended her hand in a human greeting and Liz, though surprised, took it and shook it.

“I saw you during the Fellowships’ meeting, didn’t I?” she said, “So you’re the Swordmaiden I’ve been hearing about.”

To her credit, Rinaran grinned, “And you are the famous shield maiden of Rohan, the reincarnation of Eowyn and so many others before you.”

Liz laughed something that she rarely did and it felt good. She found it so easy to like the Elf and gave the sword in her hand a few swings. As she did, she could faintly recall the memories of her as Eowyn, fighting off the Orcs and Nazgul at the battle of Pelennor Fields. Another memory rose to her conscious and she remembered fighting the British…she was holding the banner of France… She was Joan D’Arc, the maiden of Lorraine.

“I deserve to fight,” she suddenly whispered as she stared at the sword in her hands, “I know how to fight…”

“And that you do, my friend,” Rinaran clapped her on her shoulder and Liz looked at her, “come, Indris and I will pick out armor for you. We would give you our Elvish ones, except you are a non-mage. But do not worry; we have the best armor to protect non-mages.”

Liz followed after Rinaran, feeling that she had finally found another person she could relate to. If only her brother was here now to see her like this. Boy, would he be in shock.

* * *

Gimli reluctantly put on armor to do battle with the others to defend the Golden City. He didn’t want to leave Legolas’ side, but Haldir had convinced him that staying inside was no good to their friend and since Gimli was able to procure weapons enabling non-mages to kill mages without hurting themselves, he was very useful to General Ruthersfield’s army.

And so, as he put on the last bits of his armor, the plates barely fitting him as he was so tall, he knew that fighting was the only choice he had now. He had to fight for his dearest friend, his brother, and his family.

* * *

General Edward Ruthersfield watched as lightening began to form, natural ones to say the least. Rain started to pelt them, but for him, he was shielded slightly as they were by the pillars. He was a hardened veteran of battles and this one was no different.

The only difference was the fact that he knew what was at stake now. He knew the consequences of failure. For he was a fallen U.S. Army general, but the King of Rohan in another life. He knew that his men and women would follow him to the ends of the Earth if he wanted them to.

He also knew that his sister was up there, on another level, also preparing to fight. He knew that she couldn’t be caged, not for a second time. She wanted to fight and so he let her. She would be able to defend herself. But, nonetheless, he worried for her safety. Beside their uncle who ruled the city of Paris, she was the only family he had left.

As lightning crackled through the sky once again, Ed waited patiently for the forces of darkness to arrive. He would be ready. They all would.

* * *

Frank, Ben, and Alec stood next to each other, all of them looking stoically into the night. Rain had started and was pelting sheets down at them, but Frank didn’t care. They weren’t exactly in the front lines, but nearer to the entrance of Lorien Inc. Elrond had insist that they stay near the entrance for whatever reasons he didn’t know, but he was glad that this time there was no one to tell them that they were stuck in the Healing Hall for this battle.

No, this time, Frank was glad he was able to fight. For the last battle, he had been stuck in the Healing Hall, tending the wounds of others. Turning his head slightly he saw his future wife standing with a group of female Elves, swordmaidens all of them, and she was talking with them.

Though he was happy that she was able to fight, as he had seen her pained looks and longing for battle during their time in the Healing Hall, he still worried for her. If anything happened to her during this battle…no! He shook his head slightly to stop the thoughts from coming. Nothing would happen to Liz. Nothing.

* * *

As preparations were finalized for the second battle to defend the Golden City, deep in the Healing Hall where a prone body was being kept in isolation, the stirrings of evil began their work.

The three Elves guarding the body didn’t notice anything wrong with the occupant inside, but then again, the evil inside didn’t want them to know. In the deep darkness, a fiery blood-red eye opened.

The battle to defend the Golden City had begun.

And Sauron was waiting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just like random character thoughts. ^_^ Only four more chapters ‘till the end of Part I: Sauron. After that starts Part II: Morgoth, of The Shadows that Remain.


	26. Vernomage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, I would seriously like to apologize to you, the readers of this fic. I know that I’ve been lacking on my updates and it’s partially due to my muse, Haldir, who’s off on another tangent for a while. He has been channeling my original stories ideas and I also want to finish that before the year’s end. I would have had this chapter up earlier, like around the 16 or 17, but I became really sick during this week and had to skip two days worth of classes. Now I’m in the midst of playing catch-up on homework, but I will find time to write since I’m in the midst of Thanksgiving Break. Don’t worry; I will still have access to a computer! Another thing is that starting from this chapter, there could be an alternate reality to the whole story, but that’s for another time…^_^  
> Thank you for staying with this story and without further ado, here’s the next chapter.
> 
> Notes:  
> [] = denotes Elvish speech

Alec sliced the head of an Orc off before turning and stabbing another one in the stomach. Even with him near the entrance, they came in greater force than ever thought possible. He thought that all he had to do was just keep some pesky Nazgul or summon from harassing the entrance, but now Orcs and various mages had made their way past Haldir, Glorfindel, and Rinaran to attack them.

Now he found himself fending off numerous Orcs that came his way. They were overtly persistent and seemingly suicidal, something he had never seen before. He wondered why…perhaps Morgoth was a harsher master that Sauron? He didn’t doubt that…

As the Orc reeled away in its deathly throes, he shook his head slightly, before instinct made he suddenly duck and roll out of the way of a black fiend summon. The summon was promptly destroyed by a white wolf and he turned to see an Elf guiding the wolf summon to destroy others.

He could see beyond the Elf, Anna, her hands held up as she guided her summons, two falcons, in attacks against the various dark creatures. So far, it seemed, that Haldir and Glorfindel were holding off the Nazgul that had come with the assault force. He could see bright arcs of magic produced near the front lines and also near the pillars that held up most of the buildings of the Golden City. It seemed that Firfenion and his Silver City elves had their work cut out for them, Alec thought wirily before a charging Orc caught his attention and he swung his sword with frighteningly ease, easily killing the Orc.

Overhead, the buzz of hover copters and jets flew by, Elladan and Elrohir’s fighters doing their work and taking down winged fiends while doing strafing runs. The constant buzz was only shattered when the cry of the Nazgul echoed in the night. So far, Alec counted three Nazgul, the Witch King not among them – which he thought was a good thing as David, the little Witch King, scared him. He knew that as Aragorn he wasn’t scared of anything, but he was still Alec Richard, and the human part of him was extremely scared of David.

He still couldn’t really believe that he had saved the Witch King…if he only knew back then when they had been fighting the Wilder. If he had only let the Wilder kill David. _But would you still have saved him?_ A voice in his head asked him and with absolute certainty Alec knew that he would have saved David no matter who or what he was.

It was because of his childhood. When he was just a boy, he had been in a similar situation like David and his sister. Roughly 25 years ago, he had been living in the slums of Boston with his parents. They were poor and were selling mere trinkets to those who would buy things from them. A mage war had broken out and his parents were killed in the ensuing battle, him captured because the mages wanted to have a little fun before they killed him.

The Boston police had tried to reason with them and there were a few mages among the police force that had come to negotiate for his release. One thing that was very peculiar was that most of the mages among the Boston police had blue glowing eyes, not the green ones that he had seen among the NYPD. He now realized that Elves populated the mage force among the BPD, with their glowing blue eyes, and human mages, instead, had green glowing eyes.

The mage that had saved him was wearing riot gear so he didn’t get to see much of the Elf’s features except the eyes. Now, he had a sneaky feeling that the Elf that had saved him was Elrond…but he kept that thought to himself.

“Alec! Two, behind you!” Ben’s voice suddenly startled him and he turned around and swung without thinking. He instantly decapitated and killed two Orcs that had been trying to ambush him and glanced over to where Ben was dealing a mortal blow to another Orc, sweat matting his short brown hair.

The Elves had taken Ben to the Healing Hall and worked their magic on him and now, Ben had said that his link with the Undead that was formerly their co-worker Robert, had been completely severed since Sauron was dead. He was now fighting with more vigor than what Alec had seen in their quest to assassinate Sauron just a few days ago.

“Hey, you all right?” he called over to his friend and Ben looked up and grinned before turning around and yelling a war cry towards a group of Orcs who looked startled and frightened for a second before advancing upon him.

Alec smiled grimly at his friend’s actions. He could definitely see the Boromir part of Ben coming out. He remembered watching him fight and knew that Ben/Boromir, whoever was in control, would give the enemy hell.

Focusing his senses, he saw a group of Orcs trying to ambush a few of the Verno Elves who were directing their Summons. Oh no you don’t, he ran up a few steps and unconsciously held out a hand towards the Orcs. He didn’t really know what he was doing, but he knew that he _wanted_ to destroy the Orcs. He didn’t see a white ball of light form on his outstretched hand. All he saw was a ‘battle vision’.

He could see the enemy clearly. They were pinpoint clear whereas the Elves around them were just blurs that he didn’t need to notice. He was focused on the enemy and the enemy had to be eliminated.

His hand moved of his own accord and he fired the white ball of light. He watched as his forward momentum was slowed to a heartbeat and his breathing became loud and harsh in his ears. The ball of light impacted the bulk of the Orc pack and exploded, sending Orc guts and blood everywhere.

Alec waded in and killed the rest. He looked around, his vision showing him the clear points of the enemy, the Elves and humans around them battling just blurs. He continued forward, ignoring the Elves and humans and was about to attack when suddenly a piercing scream threw off his concentration and everything flew back to normality.

Alec shook his head and looked up just as the scream came again. This time closer. His eyes widened in surprise as he saw a Nazgul, riding a dark green dragon whose fangs and claws were dripping blood, bank around them. The Nazgul screamed once more and he had to cover his ears at the harsh and loudness of it. He realized dimly as he crouched on the ground, trying to avoid the dragon’s fire and claws, that the scream was different…

Even most of the Elves, still trying to battle the dark forces of Morgoth, were clamping their hands over their sensitive ears. He looked towards the distance where the front lines were and saw the two other Nazgul making dive runs at the Elves and noticed that also when they screamed, their scream was different. He didn’t know how it was different, but he could tell.

It sounded like the Nazgul were trying to call to something or maybe perhaps they were communicating with each other – but then again, when David had attacked when they were trying to escape the Black City his scream didn’t seem to ‘call’ to the others. Alec watched as some of the Vernos, including Anna, tried to direct their summons towards the Nazgul, but even they were moving lethargically, like the Nazgul’s powers were keeping them at bay somehow.

He watched as one Elf fell down, oh-so-slowly, as the Nazgul, wielding a wicked-looking sword, cut him down. Everything was moving so slowly…and the Nazgul seemed to know it as it pulled up on his mount and rose up into the air again, where the dragon screeched against the fighters that came near it. The fighters were also moving slowly and each time they fired their weaponry, the dragon seemed to dodge it, as did the Nazgul riding on top of it.

He didn’t know what magic was at work, but it seemed to paralyze and move time so slowly for everyone. He glanced up towards where Elrond was, and saw that even the Elf was struggling against the time-induced spell the Nazgul had casted. Suddenly, movement near Elrond caught his eye and he saw Anna, standing up slowly but surely and concentrate on a spell that was forming in her hands.

The Nazgul screamed again and to his horror, Alec realized that the Nazgul had spotted Anna trying to make a spell to repeal whatever time spell it had casted. “Anna!” he cried out, trying to catch her attention as she was standing up, her gaze focused on the spell in her hands.

“ANNA!” he yelled, as he made his legs move. He ran towards her, intent on saving her as he noticed out of the corner of his eye the Nazgul breaking off from its attacks on the fighters and flying down towards Anna who was standing like a lone warrior among her kneeling Elven-kin folk. He could feel himself moving slowly through the time spell and realized that at his current speed, he wasn’t going to make it and Anna was going to die.

Die.

Just like Gwen and Tony and countless others through his thirty years of life on this hellish planet called Earth.

Anna was going to be killed by the Nazgul.

Arwen was not going to live.

His love would die if she died.

Alec suddenly jerked slightly as he realized that without Anna by his side, his life wouldn’t be complete. It didn’t matter if she was the reincarnation of Arwen Undomiel or if he was the reincarnation of King Elessar Telcontar of the Free Lands – all that mattered was his love for Anna.

His devotion and his strength of love towards Anna.

Nothing mattered anymore because…

Because he loved her beyond her reasoning. His love for her was beyond the stars and beyond what the Valar could declare. It was beyond Eru’s control because he knew that in his heart, he would never part from her. They were one being – one entity.

And so he had to save her.

Something deep and ancient awoke in Alec and he suddenly could ‘see’. He saw past the time spell the Nazgul had casted and rushed forward, no longer hindered by the spell. He was Vernomage, no, he was never Vernomage – he was something else, something more ancient.

“Anna!” he called out her name just as he reached the platform she was fighting on with her fellow Vernos and looked up just to see the Nazgul preparing a spell to fire at her. By whatever Gods ruled this planet, he wasn’t going to let her die.

He was going to die first before any harm came to her.

Seconds passed by slowly, not from the time spell, but for Alec as he could hear his own harsh breathing coming through his ears. He saw the expression of concentration on Anna’s face, broken as she looked up and finally saw the Nazgul aiming a killing spell at her, whatever the spell was he did not know.

Her head turned slowly towards him just as he reached her…

The Nazgul fired the spell at her…

Alec pushed her away…

He saw the fleeting startled expression on her face before shock registered on her beautiful face, her grey eyes startled. He smiled briefly at her before suddenly his world exploded in pain…then all was black.

Alec Richard did not even feel himself fall to the ground, nor did he see a white glow around himself that broke the time spell the Nazgul had casted.

* * *

Glorfindel could feel a darkness descend over him as he glanced up in the midst of the battle he was fighting to see one of the three Nazgul cast some sort of spell and realized that it was a time spell to slow time. He suddenly felt lethargic, as if he was moving in thick mud.

Even the Orcs seemed to be paralyzed as their steps towards him, once hurried, was now slow and their expressions slightly comical if not for the rotten teeth and weapons they carried on them.

 _Raithen_ glowed in his hand and he tried to move against the spell, but somehow, he couldn’t. He drew on the powers of both his Verno and Techno traits and struggled against the effects of the spell. He had to break through! They were all going to be slaughtered by the two other Nazgul who were flying around the front lines!

Rinaran was somewhere near him and though their lines were holding back the waves of Orcs and mages in a fairly good fashion, he had noticed that as soon as the battle started, many of them were very suicidal and seemed to be running at them like crazed beings, more so than usual.

He had to break through this spell! He couldn’t let it hold him! He wouldn’t let it hold him. He was not to be confined to a simple spell so casted by a damned Nazgul! He would fight it! He wouldn’t succumb to it! No he was Elrond’s second, he was his guard-general…he was…

_Eldar._

The word pierced through his consciousness and momentarily startled him, but he recovered quickly. He wondered why that thought or whatever it was, just popped into his mind. He wasn’t Eldar…though many of the other Elves commented that he looked Eldar and held himself to be like one of them, but he wasn’t…was he?

He tightened his grip on his sword and Raithen flared a bit brighter. Somewhere deep in his subconscious, Glorfindel knew that he had something within him that was trying to get out. He tried tapping into that and suddenly; he knew how to break the time spell that was affecting him. He didn’t know how to break it for the others, but he realized that he was able to break it on himself!

“[ _By light cast this spell…by time bonds and break, thus everything unbroken to me_.]” He started chanting softly as he retreated within himself to focus on the spell. He knew that it was risky, considering that he had a few Orcs and lots of Iri and Technomages surrounding him, but they were moving slowly, so he had some time – at least that was the relative term.

Slowly with each chanting of a word, Glorfindel felt something change in him and he opened his eyes to see the Orcs and mages still moving slowly, but he…he had released the spell on himself that the Nazgul had casted over everyone. He dimly realized as he waded in and cut down the helpless Orcs and mages who were still caught in the time spell, that he was glowing a bit white and for anyone to see him now, they would have seen that his green eyes were now glowing a slight white and his whole body, including his armor was not the red-gold of Rivendell, but a white-gold…

But Glorfindel didn’t pay attention to any of this as he cut down a swath of Orcs and mages. He had almost made it to where Rinaran was when a sudden bright white light in the platforms above him caught his eye and he turned to see that the white light had come from near Elrond’s position…

Time sped up again and Glorfindel, slightly surprised at the time spell being broken, received a painful blow to his temple, but he recovered quickly and slashed at the Orc who gave him the injury. He held out his hand and blasted a few mages apart with a fire spell and then turned his attention to where Rinaran looked to be slightly disoriented from the time spell and was faltering slightly.

“Rinaran!” he called to his regular second-in-command.

“I’m fine!” she replied before electrocuting a mage while bisecting another in half with her sword. “Holy…Glorfindel, look!” her eyes and those of the Orcs and mages that were battling them suddenly look up to where the defensive Vernos were, where Elrond was, and all they saw was a crackling ball of blue-white light battling the Nazgul that had casted the spell.

Suddenly the Nazgul and dragon steed exploded without even a second thought and for certain, Glorfindel knew that the battle had been won. The Nazgul that had just been killed was not the Witch King, but the creature had been in charge of the attack and the two other Nazgul were under his command. They had won…

* * *

Anna could only gape in horror as she saw the Nazgul’s spell pierce Alec in the middle of his back and rip straight through him. When the Nazgul had casted a time spell, she knew instinctively the counter spell to that and had started to cast it; except she had never noticed the Nazgul creeping upon her, ready to slay her. She had only noticed too late that Alec was running towards her and pushed her out of the way before he was hit by the spell.

“ALEC!” she screamed as he fell to the ground and she tried to run over to him after regaining her balance from his shove, but everything still moved so slowly, the time spell in effect. Suddenly, to her surprise, Alec began to glow a bright white and she threw up an arm to shield her eyes from the blinding light that encompassed her lover. Dimly through the brightness, she realized that Alec was countering the time spell…somehow; his latent Vernomage talents that Celebrian had been talking about were coming into play…

The bright glow faded after a few seconds and it was as if everything sped up and Anna stumbled forward and knelt down next to Alec. “Alec!” she cried out his name as she cradled him on her lap, shaking him slightly to see if there was any response. “Alec?” she called again, but he remained still. She couldn’t see any physical, visible wounds that were on him, save for the ones he had received when he was defending himself against the Orcs that came his way. The Nazgul’s spell was invisible…designed to attack the person’s spirit, she guessed, as there was no visible wound to show the attack by the Nazgul.

His face was ashen white and his lips were pale. The blood seemed to be completely drained from his face and she placed two fingers near his neck…there was a pulse…small…thready…and it was slowing with each passing second. “No…come on Alec…you can’t do this to me! Not today! Not ever! I can’t lose you like I lost Aragorn…not again…” she whispered as she tried to cast a healing spell on him, but even that didn’t do anything to his prone body.

The sudden screeching of the Nazgul made Anna snap her head up and she glared daggers at the Nazgul who was flying around on its dragon steed, livid that its time spell had been broken. She felt hot swift anger at the Nazgul for what the evil spawn of Sauron and Morgoth had done to Alec. A rage of fury began to build up in her and she gently placed Alec’s prone, almost lifeless body on the ground, before standing up and glared at the Nazgul.

Her hands rose up on their own accord and lightning began to crackle in them. She didn’t care what she was doing; all she wanted was to kill the Nazgul that had hurt Alec…Aragorn, her love. To anyone who saw her, they began to see an unseen wind swirl a vortex around her, lifting her up into the air where her eyes began to glow a bright white and the lightning crackling in her outstretched palms was beginning to form white balls of electric miasmas.

She was a pissed mage.

And you never get someone like Anna Elanore pissed off.

“How dare you,” she hissed at the Nazgul who wheeled around its dragon steed and stared at her with glowing red eyes of the Irimage.

“Elvish bitch,” the Nazgul replied in a harsh voice before he fired a spell at her to which she easily dodged.

“[ _By the light of the Evenstar. Waning…waxing…spirits of Luthien and Beren, help me! Light defeats darkness and despair…_ ]” she started chanting to herself in Elvish before she heard another distant voice, one who was speaking with her…a comforting presence and she realized that it was Elrond, helping her.

“[ _Surrender not this Evenstar…surrender not this light which will vanquish the darkness!_ ]” she finished before she clapped both of her hands together and fired the column of white light and lightning, the miasma spell completed.

The Nazgul had no chance.

The spell tore through him and his steed, invisible to others, but visible to Anna, and suddenly blew apart. Dragon and Nazgul carcass rained down upon those who were below them and she floated down gently to the ground before the white glow surrounding her disappeared and she suddenly remembered that Alec was grievously injured.

She rushed over to him once more as the cries of lost Orcs and mage troops resounded on the battlefield that was the Golden City. She knew that they had won, but she didn’t care as she gently picked Alec’s head up and stroked some brown hair out of his eyes. “Alec?” she tried gently, “we won…” she laughed a bit, feeling tears fall down her face as he didn’t respond. “Alec…please…speak to me…come on…please?”

There was still no response and Anna looked up to see Elrond approaching her and Alec. “Elrond?”

“Shhh…do not worry child,” Elrond’s voice was soft and caring and Anna saw that two other Elves had followed him and were reaching down to carry Alec’s prone body onto a stretcher.

“Where…”

“Take him to the Healing Hall right now,” Elrond answered her question by addressing the two Elves who nodded curtly before they moved Alec up to the entrance. “Come, my child. He will need you help,” Elrond turned to her and stretched out an arm to which she took and together, both former father and daughter raced after to help save Alec Richard’s life.

The battle had been won, but at what cost?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be regressing a bit and will feature Legolas. Heh. Enjoy torture folks, cuz it’s coming up! Sorry if this chapter sounds a bit convoluted…I might re-write it again in the near future.


	27. Struggle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I seem to be putting a lot of these right now, but it’s for my own sake. With only two weeks before Lord of the Rings: Return of the King comes out, there are three more chapters to go in Part I: Sauron of this fic. That means you’ll be seeing three chapters in the next two weeks, regardless of what I have to do! Yep, I’m determined to write three chapters. This chapter regresses to the early parts of the battle and subsequent happenings on the outside with Anna and Alec. Enjoy!

Legolas suddenly awoke to a dark musty place that reminded him too much of the Paths of the Dead. It was dark and cavernous, the cavern part should have reminded him of his home long ago in the forest of Mirkwood, now completely destroyed by human technologies, but he felt ill at ease and a shiver ran through him. He got up slowly…wondering where he was…

The last thing he remembered was being in the forests of Ithilien…talking with Valiya. But Valiya was dead…wasn’t she? He remembered that she had been killed during an Orc raiding party when he was ruler of the Elvish realm Ithilien. He blinked his eyes, noting that the Technomage glow of them seemed to brighten the cavern a bit, yet it gave it an eerie quality.

Cobwebs and vines hung all over the place and everything was dark and musty. In the distance there was water dripping from some unknown source and stalactites and stalagmites were all over the place. There was barely any light save for the glow his eyes were casting on the place.

He stepped forward cautiously and looked around, but saw no one. “Hello?” he tried and his own voice echoed back towards him.

“You shouldn’t be here, you know?” a sudden child-like voice spoke from behind and Legolas spun around and blinked in surprise.

Sitting on some rocks was an extremely younger version of himself, dressed in robes that he had not worn since he was in his father’s court in the Caverns. His younger self looked a bit sad, if not disappointed and Legolas took one step forward before his younger self shook his head.

“I am you, if that’s what you’re wondering about,” Young Legolas said, “this is your mind, if you were also wondering about that.”

“How…how did I get here?” Legolas was confused.

“Don’t you remember? Sauron attacked you,” suddenly another voice spoke from behind, this time more mature, and he turned around again to see a slightly older version of himself – dressed in the clothing he wore when he traveled with the Fellowship on their quest to destroy the One Ring.

“Who…what…” Legolas looked between the two and stumbled back a bit, utterly and helplessly confused.

“Look at what you’ve done, you’ve confused him…” Younger Legolas berated his Fellowship self in what he deemed a slightly obnoxious tone.

 _I sounded like that?_ Legolas wondered as he felt for a place to sit down and sat down on a flat rock, in between his two personas…or whatever they were.

“It’s your fault. I still can’t believe I sounded like that when I was just nearly fifty. No wonder Haldir treated me like a kid…” his Fellowship self sighed before adjusting something on his bow.

That was when Legolas noted that he had no weapons on him and he was only dressed in his usual fashion, black and more black, along with his trench coat. He felt oddly naked without his trusty gun or even his knives and looked at his two personas who were glaring at each other.

“Uh…”

“Oh, sorry,” his Younger self replied, looking at him, “you’re here because Sauron attacked you. Do you remember what happened?”

“Not…really,” Legolas frowned and tried to concentrate, but he found that he couldn’t. Something was missing…

“You were attacked by Sauron who in the form of Valiya, took over your mind and threw you in here. You’re actually in your subconscious, but that’s all relative to what’s going on right now. You were charged to absorb the powers of Sauron by Haldir, who in turn received the orders from your employers in Lorien Incorporated, namely Lady Galadriel. You did absorb his powers, but his spirit took over your mind when you least expected it – that’s why you’re here,” his Fellowship self explained in a frank tone.

“So then…who are you guys, besides being me…I guess,” Legolas started to remember what happened.

“We’re actually going to help you defeat Sauron in your mind. You and he are going to switch places,” his Younger self gave a faint smile, a cocky one Legolas noted. He still couldn’t believe he was such a…brat…or something like a brat when he was very young.

“Yeah, I know…you can’t believe it’s me, but hey, I’m you, and you’re me. Get over it,” his Younger self replied, shrugging.

“If you think you’re having a hard time believing him, how do you think I feel,” his Fellowship self looked pointedly at him and Legolas shook his head.

 _I have got to be going crazy…I’ll just open my eyes and it will be all over_ , Legolas felt very human at the moment and tried to will himself to open his eyes…but nothing happened, he was still stuck in the cavernous place with his two other selves looking at him with raised eyebrows.

“I told you, Sauron has taken over your mind, and probably soon your body,” his Fellowship self sighed a bit irritably. “Are you ready?”

“Ready?” Legolas half-stood, confused.

“Never mind, just relax, and don’t worry. I’m just going to absorb myself into you, as will your Younger self,” his Fellowship self walked over, after having put his bow away and reached out a hand and the tips of his fingers gently touched his forehead.

Legolas felt a jolt run through him and he shivered slightly before he blinked then found that his Fellowship self was gone. “Where…” he trailed off as he felt something inside of him awaken and he realized that he had been missing something all along…no wonder he couldn’t recall everything.

Somehow, when Sauron attacked him, he had split something inside of him and scattered his memories into three different personas. And now…

“I think once I meld myself into you, Sauron will know…you have to be ready, because I think this is the only chance you’ll get,” his Younger self cautioned before walking forward and lightly touching his forehead. Another shiver ran through him before his Younger self disappeared before his eyes.

He could feel the pieces of him clicking together and he felt whole once more…

“So you think you can defeat me?” Sauron’s harsh voice filled his ears and Legolas snapped open his eyes and glared at the blackness that filled his surroundings – gone was the cavernous place – and in the midst of the blackness was a pair of blood red eyes that belonged to Sauron the Irimage.

“You will never take over my body nor my mind, Sauron,” Legolas reached behind him and drew the bow his Fellowship self had been plucking at and simultaneously notched an arrow.

“Then come, little Elf, attack me if you dare,” Sauron taunted and Legolas narrowed his eyes and launched the arrow…

* * *

To any outsider who was looking into the deep parts of the Healing Hall, they would not notice anything out of the ordinary, so when the three Elven guards outside of Legolas’ room heard something crash and break in his room, they glanced at each other before looking at the door that occupied the recently fallen Elven prince.

One of them gestured to the others to cover the door as he opened it and the two others Elves nodded silently before their hands crackled with magic. The Elf designated to open the door opened it slowly and all three peered in…nothing seemed out of the ordinary…

Just as the lead Elf’s gaze rested on Legolas’ bed there was a sudden flash and crackle of lightning before the lead Elf flew back from the door and impacted the wall across from the room with a jarring thud. Smoke wafted from the room and from the Elf’s body as his two companions looked at him and saw that he was completely burnt and quite dead.

The two remaining Elves looked at each other and nodded silently before they stared back at Legolas’ room. They were about to step in, hands raised, crackling with magic, when a figure stepped from the shadows of the room and lifted his head up.

Ruby blood-red eyes stared at the two Elves and an air of inhuman power seemed to make an invisible wind blow around the figure.

It was Legolas, yet it wasn’t.

It was Legolas…not the Technomage, but Legolas the Irimage.

Legolas the Shadow Elf, taken over by Sauron.

The scream of a Nazgul howled through the air, seemingly magnified by the inner confines of the room, even though the Healing Hall was deep within the Golden City’s Lorien Inc. complex, and Legolas the Irimage grinned wolfishly at the scream – an expression that twisted his face to something that had never been seen before.

The two Elves who had been guarding him took one step back before they launched and attack at the Elven prince together. Once an Irimage…nevermore a Technomage.

* * *

Legolas twisted away from Sauron’s long sharp claws, feeling their passage through the air close by him. He had long dropped his bow and had taken out his milky white daggers and was trying to find some weak point in Sauron’s attacks. It was purely physical, as magic did not exist in his conscious and subconscious, but that still didn’t count the fact that Sauron was still an Irimage, and he, a Technomage.

But even so, he had to admit that in spirit form, Sauron was a dangerous and hard opponent. He did a quick double slash and encountered resistance as Sauron brought up his mace in a parry. One-on-one long battles was never Legolas’ strong suit as he tended to take up his bow and shoot down as many of his opponents as he could before resorting to his daggers. Even so, with the advent of magic, he had relied on his magic to blaze warpaths among his opponents.

It wasn’t the fact that he didn’t like doing one-on-one combat; it was the fact that he just wasn’t good at it. He knew that many thought of him as one of the best combatants and magic users, but they didn’t know that even the best had their weaknesses. As an assassin he was skilled in making quick kills and didn’t linger to engage in single combat.

“You think you can escape me?!” Sauron hissed at him and Legolas only silently glared at the evil creature, a creature he could barely see as they fought in the darkness of his consciousness. He knew that Sauron had taken control of his body and possibly his powers, and he hoped that wherever he was that no one had gotten hurt. He knew that Sauron would not hesitate to use his magic against his allies and friends.

“I don’t plan to escape, Sauron,” Legolas finally replied before hacking away at him, trying to get through his defenses and his mace. His eyes widened slightly and he ducked as Sauron swung the mace towards his head. It was the same mace that he had seen in paintings Elrond had in Rivendell, the same huge, ugly, sharp mace that Sauron wielded during the Last Alliance.

Suddenly the shriek of a Nazgul reverberated through their battle and Legolas shuddered and clapped his hands to his ears against the sound. It sounded so horrible and he looked up to see Sauron smiling evilly at him and bathing in the glory of the Nazgul’s scream.

With a sudden burst of insight, he realized that there had to be some kind of battle going on outside of wherever he was and it involved the Nazgul; which meant that the Nazgul were trying to call to their master and with each of their screams, he drew on more power, more evil, to overpower and dominate his mind. “Never,” Legolas said in a soft voice, “never will he rule.”

He forced himself to lower his hands from his ears, even though they were bleeding from the Nazgul’s continuous shrieks, and stood ramrod straight, his daggers turned inward, parallel to his forearms. He refused to bow down and cower at the Nazgul’s shrieks and instead defiantly looked at Sauron who was staring back at him, his ruby eyes narrowed.

“You will be beaten Elf. I will rule once more and with your body and your strength, nothing will stop me,” Sauron hissed softly.

“Even if you defeat me, there will be others to stop me,” Legolas replied, as another shriek rang through their mental battlefield and he steeled himself not to flinch. The shrieks were tearing into his soul and being, and he felt an intense pain all over him, but he forced himself to stand straight and not give into the pain.

“You are beaten already, Legolas Thrandullion. No one will stop me,” Sauron waved his mace lightly in the air, but even its swishing sound cut through like a razor sharp scissor.

“Haldir, Gimli, and the others will stop me. Lady Galadriel and the Valar will stop me,” Legolas replied, taking a painful step forward.

“Your friends are no weaker than you are. And do you think Lady Galadriel,” Sauron sneered her name and sliced the air with his mace again, except this time it cut across Legolas’ chest and left a bloody trail, “will be able to? She is of the Noldor and they weren’t able to completely eradicate me. Do you think she would be able to now? Ha! And the Valar…the Valar are nothing! Morgoth is Vala and he has risen again! Your precious Valar are bound by the rules of engagement held to Eru and Aru!”

Legolas frowned at the new name. He had never heard of any creature or being named Aru…who was Aru? But he put that behind him as he caught another of what Sauron had said. “So you admit that Morgoth is your leash holder…”

“I am no one’s pet you insolent whelp!” Sauron sliced the air again with his mace and this time, Legolas could not help but grimace at the fiery pain that coursed through his back as another bloody line appeared there. But he forced the pain away as he took another step forward.

“You forget, Sauron,” Legolas took a deep painful breath before he stared at Sauron, his eyes staring into the depths of the former Maia’s red ones; “you are only human.”

Bringing up his arm around him, Legolas threw one of his daggers at Sauron and smiled grimly, tasting the coppery metallic taste of blood in his mouth as the dagger imbedded itself into Sauron’s chest.

“What…do you think your measly dagger can defeat me? You even missed my heart!” Sauron stared at the dagger and then at him before he began to laugh, throwing his head back.

“No, I did not miss,” Legolas replied coldly before he took his other dagger and plunged it into his own heart. He staggered back a few steps before his knees gave way and he collapsed to the ground but still kept the dagger embedded in himself. “You…f-forget…” he could feel his life draining away, “my…w-weapons are…m-myself. If…I-I die…s-so do you…”

He watched with hazy eyes as black splotches began to fill his vision, as Sauron fell to the ground, his hands paralyzed, unable to move as his chest began to split apart slowly. His skin began to hiss and crackle as if burnt away before his muscles underneath turned to mush and fell to the ground, leaving the stark white of his bones. “W-What…”

It was a bloody gruesome scene and Legolas was actually glad that he didn’t have to see any more of it as the black splotches that were filling his eyes completely took over his vision. He fell to the oblivion that was death…unable to hear, see, speak, or do anything anymore.

* * *

Outside, the body that was Legolas’ that had been taken over by Sauron suddenly collapsed boneless to the ground. Sprawled in between two other crisp bodies that had been burnt alive, it seemed like an odd scene for one to walk in upon, but for one being, she did not care for anything that happened.

“He can’t fail…I won’t let him,” she whispered in a tinkling musical voice that was soft yet sad.

Her bare feet made no sound across the floor of the Healing Hall as she stepped lightly and carefully towards Legolas’ fallen body. Her bright inhuman blue eyes were teary eyed and she blinked away tears for the three noble Elves that had sacrificed their lives for this battle. Her long blonde tresses fell down her back and created a trail behind her, but they seemed to blend in with the bright glowing white of her dress.

She was small, even what humans called petite, but she carried and aura of extreme power behind her small form. But that power she rarely used and didn’t like to use it at all.

“Legolas…” she whispered the fallen Elf’s name as she knelt down next to him, her hand lightly hovering over his head. “If you were born earlier…what a wonderful Noldor or Vanyar you would have been. Eldar you would have been and the greatest of them all.”

She felt a tear run down her face and raised her other hand to her face. One of her fingers caught the tear and she looked at it before she gently touched Legolas’ lips with it. “Be reborn, Legolas. Reborn to fight for us once more. You will face hardships, but you will prevail.”

“The spirit cannot die, but you are willing to sacrifice your life to stop one of our fallen Children…I do not care of the consequences, but you…Varda has granted me permission to live once more. Live, my Prince Legolas Thrandullion. Live to serve, serve to live. Live to be free,” the gentle being said before a glow encompassed her hand and she placed it on Legolas’ head, transferring the glow to his whole body.

She held it for a few seconds before the glow faded away and she stepped away from his body, staring at it with her sad blue eyes. “This war makes us see the faces we do not want to see. You have shown your true face, Legolas. Este the Healer grants you your wish…”

With a sudden flash, she was gone.

* * *

Gimli was helping the others carry the bodies of the dead and the injured ones to various stretchers that bore them away to the Healing Hall. He himself was injured, but not as severely as some of the other Elves and humans that had fought in the battle. He wanted to go see Legolas and check on his friend, but he knew that duty prevented it. He had to help…

Near him, Haldir was giving encouragement and carrying some of his fellow wounded Elves. Right now, he was helping Firfenion to a stretcher, the leader of the Silver City troops having been injured while defending the pillars. Gimli patted the shoulder of one of Edward Ruthersfield’s soldiers and handed him a water bottle before making his way to Haldir who gave a nod of encouragement to Firfenion before the Healers spirited him away to the Healing Hall.

“You okay?” Gimli asked as Haldir hung his head briefly before staring back at him.

“If I said yes, you’d just say in your slang ‘yeah right’. So, not really. Too many have been lost tonight…” Haldir looked around the area with a sad eye. “Too many losses.”

“We won though,” Gimli shrugged. “Odd, though,” he continued, “that everyone seemed so…suicidal…”

“Yes,” Haldir looked disturbed, “I thought that it was probably Morgoth being a harsher master than Sauron, but…now…it doesn’t seem so. It seems that they were trying to get at something…”

“Or someone…” Gimli’s eyes widened when he said that and he realized why the Nazgul were screaming and why everything happened tonight… The Nazgul and the troops weren’t making a last ditch effort of attacking them; they were trying to reach their master…Sauron…

That was why Gandalf said that Legolas had fallen to shadow. Sauron inhabited Legolas’ body…and the Nazgul were screaming for…

“Legolas!” both Haldir and Gimli stared at each other, realization evident before they turned as one and pushed through the crowd and ran towards the Healing Hall. When they got to the Hall’s area where Legolas was sequestered, a pungent odor assaulted them and both skidded to a stop at the scene that was before them.

“What happened here?” Gimli whispered as he saw that one Elf was across the room’s hall, burnt to a crisp while the two other guards that had been guarding Legolas’ room were by the door, equally burnt. Smoke was still rising from the bodies and between the two blackened bodies was Legolas, lying faced down on the ground, motionless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliffhanger! Tee hee hee! That’s all I have to say. Two more chapters to go before Part I is over and Part II begins!


	28. Healing

For anyone who was looking for Lord Elrond after the second battle to defend the Golden City, they were turned away and sent to his second-in-command Glorfindel who handled the Elven Lord’s duties as he was in the Healing Hall, trying to save Alec Richard’s life.

It was many hours before Elrond sat back from the bed Alec was laying on and said in an extremely tired voice to Anna who had been sitting next to him, praying and offering her Verno powers to add to his, even though she was never good at healing, “He is going to live, Anna.”

Anna, whose hands were laced together in prayer, her head bowed, nodded numbly before she reached over and held Alec’s left hand, stroking his knuckles unconsciously. “Thank you…” she whispered before looking at Elrond who smiled grimly before placing a comforting hand on her shoulder and stood up from Alec’s bedside.

“You have no need to thank me, Anna,” Elrond whispered before a clink of his armor grinding together told her that he had left. It was then that Anna allowed herself to cry, letting all her tears for her fallen love and for her former father, Elrond, pour out. Her grief encompassed her as she laid her head next to Alec’s and cried.

The pendent of the Evenstar twinkled briefly in the artificial lights of the private room that was Alec’s.

* * *

Once the door was closed behind him, Elrond rested heavily against it, taking deep refreshing breaths. He was very exhausted, something he had rarely felt as Elves did not tire easily. Healing was a gift to him, a combination of his Techno and Verno powers, but even so, trying to heal what damage was caused by the Nazgul to Alec was even hard for him.

“Elrond?” Celebrian’s gentle voice broke through his thoughts and he looked up to see his wife, dressed in Elvish robes reminiscent of the early Ages, standing before him. A Verno she had been working in the Healing Hall all through the two battles to defend the Golden City, and even now, she looked as radiant as ever. He had refused to let her participate in the battles outside…he didn’t want to lose her again like he lost her in the Third Age.

“He will survive…the Nazgul’s attack pierced his spirit and he should have died, but apparently, he wasn’t ready to,” Elrond sighed, pushing himself from the door and letting his wife’s arm encircle his waist as she led him towards their rooms. He knew that Glorfindel would take care of things while he rested…he trusted his second completely.

“I’m glad,” his wife replied as they entered the lift to take them to their chambers. She rested her head against his chest and Elrond smiled gently down on her crown of golden blonde hair. He loved her so much… On impulse, he gently kissed the top of her head breathing in the soothing scent of lily that was her trademark scent.

As the lift stopped and opened, both husband and wife made their way into their chambers to which Elrond took off his armor, and accepted a clean robe that his wife offered to him. Sitting down in front of a chair, he briefly watched the fireplace crackle and snap before he looked at his wife as she sat down next to him, resting her head on his shoulder.

He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close, letting his head rest on hers. “It’s begun…the war against Morgoth…”

“Yes…like the prophecy,” she replied softly as she sighed.

His eyes briefly looked at the old worn book that had survived so many ages and he felt a brief flare of hatred for the Valar and those that prophesized what was to happen. “Eru and Aru are playing too many games.”

His wife didn’t answer and he didn’t really expect an answer as he stared at the fireplace once more, watching as a log fell back a little, sending a shower of sparks all over the fireplace before the flames began to crackle once more.

“There is a problem…Elrond,” Celebrian suddenly said and Elrond stiffened for a moment before looking at his wife.

“What…what happened?” he wondered what had gone wrong. Did one of the Fellowship die during the battle? What happened?

“It seems that during the battle, the Nazgul were calling to someone. Haldir and Gimli realized it after the battle that the Nazgul were calling to the spirit of Sauron that inhabited Legolas’ body. They were trying to draw him out, to take possession of his body,” Celebrian said in a cheerless voice.

Elrond didn’t say anything as his wife paused for a moment. He knew that she would continue when she wanted to and didn’t rush her.

“They found the three guards who were guarding his room, burnt alive. Legolas himself was barely alive in the midst of it,” Celebrian looked a bit disturbed and Elrond frowned.

“Were they attacked? Did someone get into the Healing Hall and attack all of them?” Elrond asked in a gentle voice.

“No…that’s the frightful part…Elrond…I think Legolas attacked the three guards then somehow stopped himself. The security cameras don’t show anything, except somehow, I think Legolas turned Shadow Elf for a brief moment, possessed by Sauron, before his spirit was able to fight back,” Elrond knew that his wife possessed seer-like qualities, an inheritance from her mother Galadriel and marveled at her deduction.

“What of the others? Did you tell them of this?”

“Only Haldir, Gimli, and Glorfindel know of what happened,” Celebrian replied, “but I have posted additional guards outside of Legolas’ room in case he has turned Shadow Elf when he awakens.”

Elrond smiled, “What would I do without you?” He kissed her gently on the lips before her head rested on his chest.

“You had an Age to think about that,” his wife replied before another snap of oxygen being consumed by the fire silenced them as husband and wife sat together in the lull of the storm.

* * *

A week had past since the battle and Alec Richard had awakened to pain, but the pain had subsided over the next few days he laid in bed, Anna by his side. The other members of the Fellowship and non-members had begun to clean up the Golden City and for the first time in many years, a clear blue cloudless sky dawned on the city.

But there was still one person of the Fellowship that was unable to see the blue sky, at least not yet.

Legolas slowly awoke to a soothing bubbling sound that was near his left ear and cracked open his eyes. They felt sandpapery and heavy and he blinked them a few times. A green-white ceiling greeted him along with the curves and leaf-like prints that made him realize that he was probably in the Golden City.

He wondered what had happened as he last remembered that he had killed himself, even though Elves never committed suicide, to destroy Sauron in his mind… He turned his head to the side and saw that he was in a private room, and that an IV unit was hooked up to him, giving him nutrition. That was why his right arm hurt as he lifted it slowly up to see a needle with a tube sticking from a vein. Such a human thing, he realized as he slowly rested his arm back on the bed he was lying on.

He turned his head to his left and his eyes widened slightly before he blinked at the sight that greeted him. A good-sized fish tank assaulted his vision, but that was not the shocking part. What was shocking was the fact that a real, live, piranha was swimming lazily inside of it, its underbelly a bright red indicating that it had recently eaten. The piranha look quite content to be swimming around and Legolas found himself following its lazy movements before a yellow piece of paper caught his eye on the corner of the tank and he squinted his still slightly fuzzy-vision eyes to read what was on the note.

**Elladan and Elrohir present to you, your very own piranha. We named it Bob, but Firfenion wants to call it Pishy.**

Legolas resisted the urge to hit something as he laid back down on his bed and sighed. Trust the twins to come up with something as ridiculous as this. He didn’t know who Firfenion was, but whoever he was, judging from the message left by the twins, Firfenion had to be just like the twins in ways.

He curled his fists together…then suddenly froze.

Sitting abruptly up, Legolas ignored the waves of dizziness that threatened to send him back to oblivion and stared at his right hand which was curled into a fist. His fingers rubbed his palm that held his skull-palm and he shuddered slightly before opening his hand slowly.

Two ruby-red eyes greeted him as they were embedded in the places where eyes would have been in his skull-palm. The two eyes that had never been there before were now there. He blinked at them for a second before he closed his eyes and tried to will his skull-palm away like he was always able to.

Nothing happened.

Opening his eyes once more, Legolas looked at the death head that was on his palm and realized that he had trapped the spirit of Sauron within his subconscious…but the price of that was that he could access dark and forbidden powers that were only reserved for Irimages and Shadow Elves, but he couldn’t will away his skull-palm to hide his identity as an assassin, and he now had an unusual skull-palm…a marking that could be used to easily identify him.

He squeezed his eyes shut as he brought his knees up to his chin and bowed his head so that his forehead rested against his knees. He had accomplished what Lady Galadriel and the others wanted…but for this? For a brief moment, Legolas wished that he hadn’t lived for such a long time... He had trapped the spirit of Sauron, but at what price? Could he even use his magic and now…what would the others think when they saw him? No one would be able to resist asking why he had two ruby eyes engraved on his skull-palm…

 _Stop being so weak! You knew that something like this was to happen!_ A voice inside of his head berated him and Legolas started. He realized that he couldn’t mope around anymore…and if Sauron’s spirit was indeed still inside of him, he would have to use his powers to contain the evil former Maia in case he tried to break free of his mental prison.

Legolas didn’t dare search his own mind to see where he had beaten Sauron and stuffed him to as he was afraid of releasing him again. “Get up…focus…you defeated Sauron…” he whispered to himself as he raised his head and looked around.

By a corner were some articles of clothing that looked to be the flowing robes that Elves wore. His weapons though weren’t lying on top of it and he wondered where they put it. His trench coat was also missing and Legolas frowned.

Glancing down at the IV needle that was in him, he pulled it out of him, wincing slightly at the pain before he placed it on the side of his bed and swung his legs over the side. Slowly, he stood up, one hand clutching the side of his bed as his knees wobbled a bit. He felt a bit weak, yet as he took a step forward, he felt fine, strong even. Walking slowly towards the sink and mirror that was near his bed, he grabbed a paper cup and filled it with water before downing it. After a few more cups of water, he looked at himself in the mirror and realized though he was still a bit pale and his hair was thoroughly mused he looked pretty healthy.

A digital calendar hung near the mirror and he blinked at he realized what the date was. He had been out for at least two weeks! Turning around, he made his way to the clothing pile and changed into it. After he was done with the last button, he felt odd without his weapons or his trench coat and walked in front of the mirror once more. Tying his hair into a ponytail behind him, he looked himself over then sighed. “Might as well see what’s going on,” he muttered before he walked to the door.

As he opened it, he looked back at the piranha tank and shook his head in exasperation. He turned back around and was greeted by five hostile looking Elves, all dressed in the red-gold armor of the Golden City, three of them with drawn swords that were glowing with magic Techno-fused in them, two of them conjuring up shields.

“Uh…” was the only sound he got out before the Vernos suddenly released their shields and stepped back.

“He’s clean. He’s not Iri,” one of the Vernos said and the three Technos sheathed their swords and stepped back, allowing him to move past them.

“What…are you talking about?” he asked and the Verno that had pronounced him clean shook his head.

“Lord Elrond will explain, Prince,” the Verno replied and Legolas looked at him, puzzled before shrugging and walking past them. He headed down the mostly empty halls of the Healing Hall, save for a few Healers who were running about, and took a lift up to the entrance area. He needed fresh air…

Passing the guards, he headed outside and was momentarily blinded by the bright glare of the sunlight. Raising a hand to shade his eyes he squinted and blinked a few times to adjust his vision to the glare. The warmth of the sun beating down refreshed him and though he rarely saw it in the Black City, it was a welcomed sight to see it here in the Golden City.

As his eyes adjusted he saw what looked to be repair crews and various humans and Elves working to repair the landing platforms and other places around the Golden City. Had a battle occurred while he was unconscious? The repairs looked to be recent and he realized that a battle did occur…

He looked around the area for any sign of Gimli or even Haldir and spotted the two working together to help repair a section of the building that had collapsed. That was a sight…he had never expected his two dearest friends to actually get along so well and to actually help each other… He was always the middleman between the two…maybe something happened that had them become friends while he was out…

Before he could even take a step forward to go see them a yell from behind startled him. “LEGOLAS!!” it was either Elladan or Elrohir’s cheerful voice, he couldn’t tell before he was bowled over from behind and landed a bit painfully on the platform with a jarring thud.

Stars danced in his vision as the weight on him was gone and he blinked it away before staring up at the cheerful faces of the twins. Menaces, that was what he would call them from now on. Complete menaces.

“You’re awake!!” Elrohir grinned at him before offering him a hand to get up to which he shook his head and stood up slowly, feeling that at least this time nothing was broken.

“Oops…Elrohir you idiot. You shouldn’t have glomped him. He’s still injured, ya know?” Elladan chastened his brother to which his brother sniffed.

“I didn’t hurt him. I was careful,” he said and Legolas shook his head at the two.

“Its okay…I’m fine. Just a bit winded,” he said before he smiled at them, “thanks for a gift…it was…uh…odd.”

“Yup. That’s what we were getting when we first dropped you off to go see _ada_!” Elladan replied, “So, what name did you choose? Pishy or Bob?”

If Legolas wasn’t used to the antics of the twins, he knew that his jaw would have dropped onto the ground for such a question. They were honestly children! “I…don’t name my fishes,” he said in a slightly confused voice.

“Damn! Now Firfenion doesn’t owe us money!” Elrohir looked a bit sad at the prospect.

“Who’s Firfenion?” Legolas asked.

“Oh…um…” suddenly the twins looked a bit embarrassed until a voice behind them spoke up.

“Hi, Legolas,” an Elf with a fairly human male haircut stepped in between them. He was about as tall as he was and looked oddly familiar, but Legolas knew that he had never met him before. He was dressed in clothing that was stylishly cut with trimmings of green and silver that made him realize that Firfenion was probably one of the troops that his father had sent over from the Silver City.

“I’m Firfenion…the commander of the Silver City troops sent to the Golden City, and your half-brother.”

Legolas was stunned. Half-brother? He stared at the Elf and realized that he could see hints of his father in the much, much, much younger Elf…and guessed that his father remarried sometime in the Fifth Age when they first broke contact in the long spells that they communicated.

Firfenion, he could see, inherited his father’s brown-blonde hair and eyes, but his facial features were probably that of his mother’s…whoever she was.

“Yeah…I know…shock. Dad married Mom during the mid-Fifth Age. Her name’s Lariel and she’s Vanyar,” Firfenion tossed the last word as if it was nothing and Legolas blinked.

“Vanyar?!”

“Yeah…” Firfenion replied looking a bit embarrassed. “I was born shortly after, but now she runs the Silver City branch of Lorien Inc. along with Dad. You know-“

Firfenion was cut off by Gimli’s relieved voice. “Laddie!”

Legolas turned around to see Gimli jogging as fast as he could towards him while Haldir was walking, taking his time. Gimli engulfed him in a back slapping hug to which Legolas returned, feeling the wind being nearly knocked out of him. He was going to have to tell his best friend sometime to restrain himself, or at least restrain the dwarven part of himself when giving hugs. Sometimes, Gimli didn’t know his own strength.

“Bless you laddie,” Gimli held him at arms length and Legolas felt a bit embarrassed to see tears in his best friend’s eyes. He released him and Legolas turned to face Haldir who was grinning before he held out his left hand to which Legolas took and gripped it firmly and shook it.

Whereas it was always backslapping hugs from Gimli, he and Haldir never needed to embrace each other, always communicating by their hands. Legolas smiled, but his smile faltered slightly as he saw Haldir glance at their clasped hands briefly, before a serious expression appeared on his face and his eyes flashed briefly in concern. He knew that his best friend felt the two bumps on his palm that were the ruby eyes and Legolas imperceptibly shook his head, a gesture that said that he would explain it later or at least try to.

Haldir nodded once before the smile appeared back on his face, now a façade. “Good to have you back Legolas.”

“It’s good to be back,” he replied.


	29. Leaving

The next couple of days were flurries of activity as the Elves ran about preparing for the massive departure of not only the Fellowship and other Reincarnated Ones, but of also Glorfindel’s war fleet which was to head to England to combat the forces of Saruman who had turned red on their Situation Room’s charts just a few days ago.

Galadriel had summoned the members of the Fellowship and those who were Reincarnated to the White City, an unnamed city that was located in the former European countries, and they were preparing to leave on military jets with a few others like Haldir and the two other Elves of the White City. The only member of the Fellowship who was not going with them to the White City was Ben and his brother Frank. Both were going to go back to the Black City to try to convince their father, the mayor of the city, to send the National Guard of the city to help fight the second phase of the war against Morgoth.

Glorfindel was to command a fleet of ships carrying tanks and armaments to rendezvous with Cirdan and his great fleet to help defeat Saruman in England so they would not face a two-pronged attack when Galadriel gave the order to send out troops to face down Morgoth.

Firfenion was staying in the Golden City to help clean up while the twins were heading out with the Fellowship to the White City, mainly because of their fighters were an asset as an escort to the military jets the Fellowship were to ride over to the White City.

When the day came for the Fellowship and others to leave, it seemed that everyone who was in the Golden City came to send them off. Legolas felt a little embarrassed at all of the attention and shifted a bit uncomfortably as he shook hands with his little half-brother to whom he had relatively accepted as his kin, but steered away from as Firfenion was as rambunctious as the twins.

“Keep fidgeting and people will think you have a twitchy persona, bro,” his younger brother smirked at him and Legolas just sighed and shook his head.

He now wore a black leather glove on his right hand to hide his skull-palm and it was thick enough that whenever he shook hands, no one would feel the imprint of the twin ruby eyes that made his skull-palm different from others.

“Luck be with you Legolas, as always,” Rinaran approached him and gave him the salute that was of the Swordmaidens as she had always had whenever their paths crossed.

“And a good spring from your bow to you,” he replied in a formal tone, the correct way of addressing a Swordmaiden. He sketched a short formal bow before her before she grinned at him and stepped away to let Glorfindel say his goodbye.

Legolas clasped his forearm and shook it tightly, staring with grim eyes at the guard general of Elrond. He had heard what had happened when he was unconscious and heard from both Rinaran and Haldir that something seemed to have change with the guard general each time there was a battle. It seemed that there was more to Glorfindel than anyone knew…

Looking at him now, Legolas couldn’t really tell what had happened to the Eldar-like Elf. “Good luck on your mission,” he said to the Elf.

“And to you too. We will see each other again on the battlefield,” Glorfindel replied before stepping away.

Seeing that no one else was going to bid him goodbye, and to his relief, he made his way to one of the three jets to take them to the White City and saw that Haldir was talking with Rinaran near the side while Gimli looked a bit bored and out of place. Beyond them, Elrond and Celebrian were in deep conversation with Anna and Alec and for once, Legolas was glad that the twins weren’t around and instead were up in the skies with their fighters and squadrons, waiting for the jets.

“You look bored,” he commented in an offhand manner to his friend who harrumphed and crossed his arms around his tweed jacket. His glasses were perched precariously on his nose and Gimli did indeed look very out of place. Legolas knew that their armor were packed away on the jets and what they were wearing were casual civilian clothing, except for a few Elves like Haldir who was dressed in a business suit once more.

“I don’t like goodbyes. Too sappy,” he jerked his head towards where Alec, Anna, Elrond, and Celebrian were.

“Still the same dwarf,” Legolas shook his head sadly, “I thought you’ve become friends with Haldir, Rinaran, and the others.”

“Yes, but Haldir over there is trying to _court_ Rinaran,” Gimli said in a slightly gruff voice, “it’s hard to talk to them when they’re together…”

“What?!” Legolas spun slightly and stared at his best friend and finally noticed that what he thought was just a casual conversation between the two was actually a little more intimate than that. “When did this happen?” he turned back around and faced Gimli who was grinning at his expression.

“Ah…so you can surprise an Elf. Apparently, longer than I was alive. I’m surprised that you haven’t known about this…”

“I spent the last 30 something years keeping an eye on all of you Fellowship in the Black City. Of course I’m out of touch with my other friends,” it was Legolas turn to grouse.

“Apparently, very out of touch,” Gimli added softly but Legolas heard him and resisted the urge to punch his friend in the shoulder even though they stood nearly the same height. It was such a human thing to do and he had good reason, after all, he spent so much of his time around humans he had picked up a few of their mannerisms.

Silence followed Gimli’s words and both friends stood in amicable silence as they watched the proceedings around them. They watched as the Reincarnated-hobbits took in the presents of food and different stuff the various people of Edward’s army had unloaded upon them. It seemed that the army had adopted the former hobbits as their own and were now piling them with military freeze dried rations and clothing.

Frank and Liz were to the side, having their own private moment and Ben and Edward were trying to help the hobbits with their things that resulted in some hilarious activity going on and even made the gruff Army general laugh at times.

“Ithilien,” the quiet voice of Elrond made Legolas turn around to see his employer walking towards him.

“Ithilien?” Gimli questioned beside him.

“My codename within Lorien Inc. I’ll explain it later,” he said before he approached the Elven Lord and nodded.

“Since your mission was a success, you will be paid in full with extra bonuses for hazard pay. Is that satisfactory?” Elrond said in a business-like voice and Legolas nodded.

“Same account,” he replied. It was a bit cruel and frivolous, but he knew that back in the early Ages money did not count for anything, but now…money counted for everything and though he was always welcomed at any of the Lorien Inc. branches (save for probably the Silver City), and would be able to stay for no charge since he was an employee, he rather have cash on him because of his other commitments.

“Galadriel will tell you of your next mission, unless you have a previous commitment to your other job?” Elrond asked and Legolas shook his head no. His other commitment was to the United States Air Force as an attaché to the CIA, but he hadn’t been in contact with any of his associates or employer in there for the last 30 years so he had no assignments from them.

“Good, then I wish you luck with your mission, Ithilien,” Elrond took his right hand and shook it but then suddenly drew him close and whispered in his ear, “Be careful of what evils lurk in the European continent. You will have to fight the demon within you.”

He drew back and Legolas looked at him, a bit confused, but knew that the answers would come soon enough. Elrond released his hand before walking away towards his wife who was waiting with the crowd that had all but finished saying their goodbyes to the Fellowship and other members.

As Legolas climbed the steps into the jet, he looked out at the Golden City, its skies now clear blue with patchy clouds, and he knew that it would be a long time before he ever saw the city again. He climbed in and took a seat next to Gimli who wanted to be close to the isle, stating that he got air sick easily.

“Please fasten all seat belts and have trays locked and seats in the upright position. We will be leaving shortly,” the voice of their pilot, an Elf Legolas could not identify, said. A few minutes later the acceleration that pressed him back into his seat told him that they were lifting off.

As the three jets lifted off from the platforms of the Golden City, four squadrons of fighters joined them in escorting them to the White City. There, they would face off with the fallen Vala, Morgoth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So ends Part I: Sauron…


	30. White City

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little Notes of Interest:  
> People to Thank – The Nightrunners (especially them), for giving me the inspiration to write something similar to their fic, Brothers in Arms. If you haven’t read it yet, go do it now, then come back. You can find it on fanfiction.net. Hiro-tyre for pointing out the obvious above (I love your critique of my work). You, the Reviewers (I will list all of you at the end of this epic). My beta readers – Algae, Michelle, and Nessie. Hey Algae, I know that isle is spelled wrong in the previous chapter, I’m just too lazy to change it to aisle. ^_^  
> People to Worship – J.R.R. Tolkien (as always), Peter Jackson, and the Cast and Crew of the LoTR movies!  
> People to Glomp – Legolas, Haldir, the twins, and Glorfindel (though he might not like it much…eeep!)
> 
> More Notes of Interest:  
> New York City (a.k.a. the Black City) – I love NY. No, I seriously do. I live at least an hour and half away from it in Connecticut, but I have family there so it’s like a second home to me. That’s why I can tell parts of the city in full detail.  
> Boston (a.k.a. the Golden City) – This is my college’s city so duh; I live here for most of the year.  
> Battles – I have a tendency to visualize my battles in my head much like what you would see on TV or in movies. Some people say I write my battles like Michael A. Stackpole, and I like the fact that I do. He’s a superb author in characterization and in visualization of battle sequences. ^_^ Thanks! For this story though, I stylized my battles with a hodgepodge of stuff from Stackpole’s Talion: Revenant (this is where the skull-palm came from), Orson Scott Card’s Ender’s Game, Robert Jordan’s Wheel of Time, the Japanese anime X (movie version), and a bit of Baldur’s Gate II: Shadows of Amn. Some of the concepts come from the TV show Babylon 5.
> 
> There will be more Q&A after the completion of this fic so keep reading!
> 
> So begins Part II: Morgoth…

The flight from the Golden City to the White City was cut in half because of improved technologies that enabled flight to be faster. But even so, when they were flying over the Atlantic Ocean, Legolas could not help but think that it was endless. The deep blue of the ocean seemed like an endless path that was leading them to another continent and in the distance, there was nothing except the cloud line and water.

He looked out of the window, trying hard to ignore Gimli’s mutterings about air sickness and crinkling of the bag he was holding while dry hacking into it. It wasn’t easy as Gimli shifted almost every minute in his seat, trying to sleep when sleep would not come then flipping over and muttering curses at the Valar who Reincarnated him to be air sick.

Legolas didn’t really mind the curses at the Valar…he had found out what their bargain was and didn’t like it one bit. Actually, no one liked it so he had joined a very large crowd of Elves and humans who were beginning to get very irritated at the Valar. The only person, it seemed who was either neutral or refraining from comment was Gandalf.

He had wanted to ask Gandalf what really happened to him and why did his skull-palm now have two encrusted ruby eyes and what did it mean, but the wizard had decided to take the same jet the Reincarnated hobbits had, deeming to keep a close eye on them. Anna, Alec, Liz Ruthersfield and her brother had taken the other jet, Edward none too happy to leave most of his army behind, only taking with him some of his top lieutenants and leaving his army in charge of his second-in-command.

That left Haldir and the other Elves to the jet Legolas was occupying. He had tried to ask his best friend about Rinaran, but Haldir neatly dodged the question and had called a conference with his two sub-lieutenants Fereveldir and Arthonas. Rising half out of his seat, the seatbelt restraining him somewhat, he saw that Haldir had broken up the meeting, but was also talking on his cell phone, typing away at a holographic projector laptop, but the projection mode wasn’t in full view, meaning that whatever he was typing was for his eyes only.

Legolas sat back down and shook his head. He could swear that his best friend was an effective businessman…and just as effective as a soldier and guard general to Galadriel. Perhaps when they arrived at the White City he would ask her about his skull-palm.

He glanced out of the window once more and squinted slightly at a distant lightning storm. It was so faint and so faraway that he didn’t really see the flashes of lightning…until suddenly he found his vision swiftly blurring…

Everything moved so fast and finally it stopped when he saw the tower of Orthanc, rebuilt and Saruman the Black was standing on top of it, summoning his lightning storm along with various magical creatures that flew and roamed about the land that was London, England. He felt evil radiate from the place and suddenly felt a dark presence cloud his mind before he violently suppressed it and forcibly pulled his gaze from the window.

He slammed back into his seat, startling the Elf that had been sleeping in the seat behind him before the Elf snorted slightly and went back to the waking sleep Elves were known to have. Gritting his teeth and screwing his eyes shut, he could feel the tendrils of evil that was Sauron trying to break free, but he slammed his mental doors shut and refused to let the evil spirit out to take over his body once more. Holding the mental doors, Legolas waited a few minutes to make sure the evil was gone before he opened his eyes once more and felt his breath coming in raggedly.

He suppressed the urge to gasp as he unclenched his fist and took off the black glove. He stared at the ruby eyes, a vile feeling creeping over him. He flexed his hand once more, turning it around and staring at it like it was something foreign. Forcing himself to calm down, he took a long deep breath and let it out slowly…

“You okay?” Gimli’s concerned voice made him turn his head and look at his best friend who cracked open his eyes from a curled up position in the seat. Gimli didn’t look too well, pale and his breathing was a bit shallow from the air sickness he was experiencing.

“I should ask you that,” Legolas gave him a small smile before slipping the glove back on.

“Legolas,” his friend’s tone was a warning and Legolas dropped the smile and ran a hand through his head, ruffling his own hair on his back, which was put up in the style he had not worn since the Third Age.

“It’s nothing,” he finally replied, “I’m just having a hard time…adjusting to…you know…” he lifted up his gloved hand and shrugged.

“Okay…” Gimli’s raised eyebrow told him that he didn’t believe a word of the lie Legolas had given him, but then closed his eyes once more and shifted slightly, trying to go back to sleep.

Legolas let a small sad smile flit across his face before he turned back to staring out of the window, the jet now having past England. He hoped that Glorfindel and Cirdan would be able to suppress Saruman and his massive army.

The three jets and their escorts continued on to the White City.

* * *

When they landed in the White City, it was already night time, the time difference between the Golden City and the White City was six hours. The sparkling lights of the White City glowed brilliantly as the three jets and their escorts came in for a landing. Fred peered down and couldn’t suppress a gasp of wonderment at the lights. Everything was so pure…so good…so…

He couldn’t describe it, but it lifted his spirits up immensely and helped him relieve him of his jet-lag. The White City seemed like it was opening up its arms to welcome them to her fold and her protection. He was struck at how similar the lights of the City seemed to the Goldenwood Realm of Lothlorien…how ancient, pure, and natural it was.

As the jets banked around for a landing, Fred could see the small figures of a few Elves waving in the jets to land on three platforms while another group of Elves were directing their fighter escorts to a hanger bay. He had rested comfortably on the trip to the White City, occasionally talking and playing a game of chess with Sam or trying to stop Phillip from eating all of Matt’s food as Matt had been very air sick and very afraid of flying, clutching the sides of his seat for the whole ride and nearly hyperventilating. If it hadn’t been for Gandalf by Matt’s side, Fred would have thought that his friend would have passed out by now.

Gandalf had murmured a few words that calmed Matt down somewhat during their trip, but apparently whatever spell the wizard had said wasn’t working when they were landing and the hyperventilation began again. Fred felt sorry for Matt, as he knew that his friend wasn’t usually airsick and it was probably one of his Reincarnations that got airsick a lot.

The landing was very smooth, compared to how humans landed planes and as soon as they rolled to a stop, Phil hopped up from his seat and dashed to the front of the plane, eager to get away from Matt who was currently throwing up into a bag. Though it wasn’t a pretty sight, Fred patted his friend on the back encouragingly before getting up from his seat and following Sam who was waiting with Pippin for the doors to open so they could get off of the jet.

“Come now Matthew, you will be better once we get your little feet to the ground,” Gandalf was helping Matt up from his seat as he swayed slightly in dizziness and guided him to the front.

Fred watched as one of the Elves who was in the pilot’s cabin open the door and step down the small stairs. He followed the Elf and abruptly stopped as he peered out into the White City.

It was more magnificent than he had ever thought, even at night. The sprawling metropolis gave an earthly blue-silvery hue of color from each spire and each skyscraper that dotted the landscape and in the background, surrounding the whole area from where he could see was tall, snow-capped mountains, save for a small valley path in the far corner.

He could tell why the city was called the White City. Everything felt pure here…nothing was tainted with evil and serenity existed which lifted up his spirits greatly. He felt healed by just looking around at the landscape and skyscrapers…

“Hey, Fred, you mind?” Phil’s voice snapped him out of his gaze and he turned his head slightly before stepping down to the platform in which they had landed on. Only then did he notice that the platforms were made of wood and metal, a combination that didn’t look ugly, yet looked like the metal and trees grew out of each other.

He also realized that they were up _real_ high. Very high. Walking to the edge of the platform, he leaned a bit over it, just so that the winds wouldn’t knock him over, but just enough that he realized everything was naturalistic and there were layers that were built out of real trees. There seemed to be no end to the levels in which the Elves built the White City – as he was sure humans couldn’t have constructed it entirely.

“Careful Fred. I don’t think Gandalf would want us to fall,” Sam’s concerned voice spoke from behind and he turned around and grinned at his best friend.

“Don’t worry Sam. I’m fine. It’s just that…there’s so many layers…it’s so…so…” Fred shrugged as he was at a loss for words to describe the White City. Compared to the Golden City, the White City was very naturalistic while the Golden City thrived on technology.

“Yeah,” Sam agreed as they both turned and followed Gandalf, Phil, and a much better looking Matt to where the other occupants of the two other jets were getting off.

Fred waved to Gimli who returned the wave as he and Legolas got off then stepped to the side as the Elf Fred didn’t really know too well named Haldir got off after them, dressed in a sharp looking business suit. As soon as Haldir’s feet touched the platform, he began to bark orders in Elvish and the Elves that had greeted them on the platform scrambled around, obeying the guard-general’s orders.

As they approached the rest of their group, Haldir turned around and walked towards them, and Fred could tell that the Elf was happy to be back in his home city, the realm of the Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn.

“Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel request to meet all of you right now. I will take you to them,” Haldir said in a formal voice, so formal that Fred could almost see the Elf back in his Elvish clothes when he first met him in the Third Age as Frodo Baggins, the business suit all but non-existent.

However, he shook his head to clear the sudden memory and followed Alec and Edward, the two of them in deep conversation, as Haldir lead them from the platform to the inner confines of a tall white spiraling building. Once they entered Fred felt his jaw drop a few inches at the inlaying of the White City. He could dimly hear the gasps of wonderment and surprise from the others, but all he was focus on was the beauty of the architecture of the building they had entered in.

It was dome-shaped and their gasps echoed in the acoustics of the great hall. Leaves of gold and silver and polished opal climbed their way on vines of marble that held up the sides of the dome. The ceiling was decorated with paintings that were all-too familiar to Fred. Those paintings on the ceiling were the depictions of the Fellowship and their quest to destroy the One Ring of Sauron back in the late Third Age. Fred saw himself facing the Witch King on Weathertop…the Fellowship’s journey through the Mines of Moria with Gandalf facing the Balrog…his and Sam’s journey with Gollum through the Winding Staircase and the eventual destruction of the Ring…

Fred realized that if one were to step in this building then they would have thought Lorien Inc. was a little overboard on being fans of Tolkien’s works. But then, he realized, that probably none of the company’s human customers probably saw any of this. This had to be a special entrance where Elves would be able to enter into such majestic beauty…

He managed to tear his gaze away from the ceiling to look around and saw that two elevators stood in the middle and went all the way to the ground floor, to which were only about 12 stories high. Two large stairs winded their way around the elevators and it reminded Fred of the staircases that wrapped around the giant trees of Lothlorien. But if the building was only 12 stories high…then that wasn’t probably the ground floor as he had thought, but only another level that was completely sealed by white marble tiles.

“How high are we?” Sam apparently had the same thoughts as him and voiced it to Haldir who looked a bit smug at their reactions.

“At least 70 stories high. This is the entrance we use to reach the Lady and Lord’s chambers. The elevators and stairs only go down twelve stories before another set of elevators take them to the real ground floor. Those floors below the 52nd floor are office space where our human and Elven employees work to keep the company functioning. You are currently in the Sanctum where some of our guest quarters are. Come, they are waiting,” Haldir gestured for them to follow him and they did.

Fred saw that the Elf was leading them to a transport tube of sorts. He realized that it was a walkway, connecting two large buildings together as they walked across the fairly long walkway. Through the glass windows that they passed by, Fred saw glimpses of gun turrets and defense systems, but also a bustling city that was full of life with hover cars and people walking below them, all of them looking like ants of course.

When they reached the other side, once again, Fred found his jaw dropping to the ground at the magnificence of the interior. It was also domed, but this time, instead of gold and silver leaves and marble pillars it looked exactly like the inner sanctum of Caras Galadhon, quiet and inviting. This had to be where Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn resided.

Haldir led them down a few steps to a grassy area in the middle of the hall where Fred saw that Galadriel’s mirror was still on its pedestal and where two Elves waited. As they approached and stopped, Fred saw Haldir sketch a quick bow before leaving them and exited to another place. He turned his head back around and felt a smile creep onto his face. Lady Galadriel was still as beautiful as ever; just how Frodo Baggins remembered her, and Lord Celeborn was as proud and righteous as he had first met him.

He had to note though…Galadriel and Celeborn in their true forms never looked like what the films had portrayed them to be, but still that was the movies, even if they were very old ones.

“Welcome to the White City,” Celeborn said in his precise, slightly clipped voice. “You are safe within these walls from Morgoth or any of the evils that plague the world, so do not worry…”

As Celeborn continued his little speech Fred found his gaze inexplicably drawn towards Galadriel who stood by her husband’s side, serene and quiet. As he stared at her, he suddenly blinked as her eyes caught his and he was drawn in by their depth and power. _Welcome Fredrick Baskerville, Reincarnated Ring-bearer…you have much ahead of you, young one. You will have to gather courage to face those who are hesitant…_

“…and please take this time to rest for your journeys ahead of you,” Celeborn finished and Fred stared back at the Elven Lord. He felt a bit uneasy with Galadriel’s words, but knew from experience that everything will be revealed in due time. For now, he’ll be the slightly willing pawn in whatever game the Gods had deemed to play on them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to make this longer, but there is another chapter that follows this one that explains everything so I’ll just leave it at that. Merry Christmas peoples! Three more days and it’ll be a year since I started The Shadows that Remain. ^_^ Shadow Chaser signing off: 12/25/03.


	31. Interlude

The sound of a small stream running through the room he was given in the White City calmed him somewhat, but for Legolas, he was still restless. Ever since the Fellowship’s meeting with Galadriel and Celeborn, he had been uneasy and nervous. While Celeborn had been speaking to them, Galadriel spoke in his mind and what she said did not comfort him at all. She was one of the most powerful Elves and one of the oldest and he took her words to heart, but he wasn’t as fanatically devoted to her as his best friend Haldir.

He had changed into the clothing that had been given to him when he had woken up in the Golden City’s Healing Hall, and now the light, but warm fabric was supposed to give him comfort but he still felt none. He didn’t feel the need to carry his weapons on him, but nonetheless he always carried a spare dagger, one he picked up in feudal Japan during the Meiji Revolution, in his left boot.

The trees in his room were real; everything was real, including the small stream, nothing holographic like it had been in the Golden City. Apparently Galadriel and Celeborn had a lot of time on their hands when they built up the White City. For him, it was his first time to the White City. He had seen Galadriel and Celeborn a few times during the many years, but it was always through whatever means of communication were available at that time period or age.

Now he sat on an elegantly furnished chair in his room, his hands folded behind his head, staring at nothing even though his gaze was towards a certain point above his bed. Everyone was asleep, at least everyone who was not Elvish. He could hear the muffled snores of Gimli who had the room next to his and smiled inwardly – Gimli still snored so loudly after all these years, it was a wonder that the whole of the Glittering Caves did not come crashing down upon him when he ruled his little dwarven realm.

If he were to go out right now, questions would be asked of him and of his gloved hand. He didn’t want to face those questions at the moment, not since the Elves of the Golden City looked upon him with a mixture of curiosity, pity, and occasional fear. The Elves knew what had happened and to a certain extent he did too. Elrond had told him that during his internal struggle with Sauron he had turned Irimage and killed three guards, but that was about all that the Elven Lord told him. Legolas had a strong feeling that Elrond and the others; even Haldir and Gimli were holding information from him about the incident with his skull-palm.

Suddenly Legolas started, staring around as he felt something invade his mind. He briefly felt a flash of fear run through him before he relaxed, recognizing the presence to be Galadriel. She was summoning him to where they had been greeted by her and Celeborn. Getting up from his chair he walked out of his room, taking his time. He didn’t feel or see the need to rush around; after all, the White City was well protected, by both magic and natural barriers.

With a start he realized that this was one of the first rare times he had ever not felt the need to rush around or to have adrenaline rushing through his blood in the tune of battle. He was at peace and could relax without any serious ramifications – and it felt odd. He was so used to taking missions and assignments from different people, always working or doing something with his magical and Elvish skills that restful times were rare for him.

As he climbed up a few flights of stairs and towards the entrance of one of the walkway tubes connecting the apartment-style complex they had been given to stay during their stay in the White City, to what had to be Galadriel and Celeborn’s own suite-like building and where they had met them, he looked around at the magnificent designs and laying the structure of the building was. Even as he rode the moving walkway, he was still taken aback by the beautiful view of the White City, especially at night. Lights from the depths of the streets to the far reaches of the mountains glittered like little gems…

It was so peaceful and so like paradise here that he felt cleansed by it, even the evil in the recesses of his mind seemed like it was eliminated. He stepped off of the walkway as it ended in another part of the mess of buildings that made up the White City and tilted his heads at the guards who ignored his presence and continued on their stoic watch.

The wardens of Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel hadn’t changed that much. They looked like they were dressed in the same outfit and armor of the early Ages, but Legolas suspected that it was the modified armor of this Age that they wore, instead of the usual metallic and various fibers worn back in the early Ages. There were so many differences between the White City and the Golden City…

Elrond always had a flair of modern taste to his city and whatever his people wore or worked with. It seemed that Galadriel and Celeborn were more conservative and traditional in their ways, but he could see hints of new technology here and there. It was odd though, to see the three most powerful Elves he had ever known with so many different tastes…but one could probably expect it from the wide blue expanse known as the Atlantic Ocean.

He briefly wondered what Thranduil’s Silver City looked like… Was it like Elrond’s modern twist to Elvish culture? Or more conservative like Celeborn and Galadriel’s White City? His half-brother Firfenion had tried to describe to him about the Silver City, but Legolas found it almost impossible to picture it… He had been to Los Angeles where now the modern-day Silver City stood, but that was a long time ago and it was in what the humans called the 20th Century. After that, he had all but avoided going to former L.A. and now couldn’t really picture the modernized city in his mind. He was still stuck in the past when it came to picturing modernization.

As he arrived to the place where both Lord and Lady had greeted them, he saw that no one was there, but Galadriel’s mirror or birdbath as the twins had poked fun at her mirror before apologizing to their grandmother, stood in the middle of the room, mini-stone steps leading down to it. He looked around, the ethereal lights twinkling, and still no one was there.

Where did Galadriel go?

 _I am here Thranduillion_ , her voice suddenly resounded in his head and Legolas blinked in surprise, but kept his composure. Galadriel would show herself when she wanted to.

“You bring great evil here,” her musical lilting, but sad voice spoke softly to his left and he bowed his head in greeting as she stepped daintily down the steps towards her mirror.

“My Lady,” he tilted his head.

“Come,” she waved him over to her and he walked towards her and the mirror, wondering what did she want with him. He stopped short of the mirror and of her and looked at her, wondering.

“You know of what happened to you during the Fellowship’s attempt to assassinate Sauron?” Galadriel’s voice suddenly hardened to almost icy-like quality that nearly caught him off guard.

“A little,” he replied as he watched her carefully. Her bright glowing blue eyes, a sign of her Technomage status, was almost dampened by the subtle glow of the lights in this enclosed area, but Legolas didn’t doubt the fact that Galadriel was one of the most powerful Technos in the world, and the factor of her glowing eyes was just a trivial matter. “Elrond told me that somehow, I turned Irimage when Sauron’s spirit possessed my body…but then I managed to fight him off and returned to Techno status…but that’s not the whole story, is it?” he asked, frowning.

Galadriel nodded then passed a slender white-sleeved hand over her mirror to which it shimmered before settling down into its original form. “You are still Technomage, yet…inside of you; you have the chance to become Irimage.”

“But I thought that once Irimage, you stay Irimage – so what happened to me?”

“From what I can gather, you carry Sauron’s spirit within you. Gandalf told me what happened when you attacked Sauron and killed him during the Fellowship’s mission to assassinate him,” Galadriel said, staring a bit wistfully into her mirror before looking at him, “in the seconds when the power transfer of the Irimage Sauron went to you, his essence was still strong and present and he attempted to possess you, to try to destroy your very being and make your body his own. He wanted to dominate once more and with your caliber and power, it was both tempting for him and hard for him to attain – as you have so obviously proved.

“But now, it seems that you have only forced Sauron’s spirit to a part of your mind and essence where you have instinctively trapped him behind the strongest of barriers, but it is not strong enough,” Galadriel said in a matter-of-factly voice. She ran a few fingers over her mirror and it shimmered slightly in response. “You felt it, didn’t you? The power clawing its way free, but only restrained as you realized Sauron tried to once again take over your body and soul.”

“Yes,” Legolas whispered, a nameless fear starting to creep up on him. He didn’t know why he was afraid, after all, the White City was serenity…but as he realized it, it was Galadriel’s presence that put that fear in him. He was afraid of what Galadriel might say, what she might do, what she will tell him.

But assassins like him never feared anything – he couldn’t be afraid in his line of profession, as fear killed you. He had gone so long without fear that it was now pouring over him in small waves that got larger by the passing seconds.

“Do you know why you were able to defeat him, not once, but three times?” Galadriel asked.

“Three?”

“Once in his human form, once when he tried to take over your body in the Golden City, and once while you were on your way here,” Galadriel said and Legolas frowned, how did she know about…

He realized that Galadriel knew everything, if not from her mirror, then from those who had her loyalty. She had eyes and ears everywhere…

“You were able to defeat him so because of your innate talent,” Galadriel continued, “not Technomage, as it is a frivolous thing that the people of these past Ages had made up, but your inner strength as a warrior, friend, and your love for life itself. That was why I ordered you to take Sauron’s power as your own.”

“But I thought the Maiar-“

“They are no more than manipulative bastards. Only Gandalf and perhaps Melian are the reasonable ones. The Valar and Maiar can never be trusted Legolas,” she suddenly dropped her voice into a hissing harshness that caught him off guard. “They only manipulate others for their own gain. I do not know the reason why they wouldn’t let Gandalf absorb Sauron’s powers into his own, but I suspect it is something to do with their own schemes…”

“Then why me? I mean, if I have this power within me, why?” Legolas still didn’t understand why he was chosen by Galadriel to go kill Sauron. The simple answer was that he was under Lorien Inc.’s employment and he had to obey his employer’s words, but even so, that was just the simple answer. There had to be a more complex answer.

“Legolas,” Galadriel suddenly looked at him with her head tilted so that her eyes caught onto the glow of the ethereal lights in the area they were in, “what is your lineage?”

“Huh?”

“Please, just answer the question.”

Blinking, Legolas resisted the human urge to scratch the back of his head as he had seen so many humans do over the few millennia he had contact with them. “My father was Thranduil,” he forced himself not to grimace at the mention of his father’s name; “his father was Orophin and descended from the line of Thingol and Melian of Beleriand.”

“And you know of Thingol as his original name Elwe one of the greatest leaders of the Teleri, right?” Galadriel asked and Legolas nodded. “But since many of the Teleri did not cross over the Great Sea to return home, they were not Noldorian nor Vanyar or Eldar. But what many Elves never knew and even what the human Tolkien wrote about us, was secret only to a few – myself included.

“Melian was a Maiar and the children that descended from her and Thingol had the ability and the potential to become Eldar, even surpassing them. Her blood is that of the lesser gods and in doing so, her children had the potential to become lesser gods themselves, but none were able to achieve this until now,” she paused and let the words sink in.

“You think that by absorbing Sauron’s powers into myself that I’ve become a lesser god?” Legolas asked in a flat voice, not really believing what he was hearing nor what his mouth was saying.

“No. Absorbing Sauron’s powers has nothing to do with you having the ability to become a lesser god. Your strength over the past few Ages has grown dramatically and in doing so, you have surpassed that which any of Thingol and Melian’s kin could ever do so-

“What about Celeborn?”

Galadriel smiled slightly, “Celeborn is already past this age and day. He has his own blood to draw upon.”

“So what am I?”

“Essentially, you are yourself. Except with your ability you were the only one who had enough strength and reserve to be able to combat and fight off Sauron, except you never knew it.”

The words were supposed to be oddly comforting somehow, but to Legolas he blinked in surprise as he interpreted what Galadriel was saying… Cold anger began to fill him and he unconsciously clenched a fist. He could feel the dark power of Sauron trying at his mental barriers, trying to feed off of his anger that he had, trying to use that anger to break free, but Legolas violently pushed the presence back and instead vented his anger out towards Galadriel.

“You manipulated me,” he said coldly, eyes narrowed as he stared at his employer, the Queen of the Goldenwood Elves, the most powerful Noldor to walk the face of the Earth…the one holding the cards. “You used the fact that I was strong and manipulated me to take on the assignment from Haldir to assassinate Sauron. You knew that my work in American and British government was and asset to what you wanted – so you manipulated me.”

He felt the sudden urge to lash out at Galadriel with a miasma spell, but knew that it would be pointless and suicidal. Instead, he squeezed his already fisted hand and felt his bones creak and grind together as he felt the cold anger continue to build up in him.

“Why?” was the next word he grinded out.

The reaction from Galadriel was one he wasn’t expecting. She stared at him like a mother to a child, but her voice was hard, cold, and militaristic. “If you’re expecting me to feel sorry for you, then you are sorely mistaken. This is a war we are fighting. You of all people should know that. Wars have sacrificial lambs in it and you are one of them. Every one of the High Council of Lorien Incorporated knew of your abilities, _your father included_. We chose you because you were capable of deeds we cannot do. You have the ability to blend in and out while we have our appearances to keep up.

“War is nothing pretty and if there was a reason why it shouldn’t happen is because of the evils in the world. But the Fellowship created in the Third Age is what kept our hope alive. Yes, we used you, but in ways to help stop and suppress this evil that has been growing for a long time. And remember, you are not the only one whose strings are being pulled.”

While she was speaking, Legolas heard a softer voice, her inner voice inside of his head. _I am terribly sorry Legolas. What is done is done…and though I regret making you go through that ordeal, it is for your own sake and for the others. Each one of the Fellowship will have their roles to play. Yours is over for now…_

“I ask of you to find it in your heart to forgive me,” she suddenly whispered, her voice returning to sadness.

Legolas unclenched his fist, but didn’t let the anger out of his voice, “I will not forgive, Lady Galadriel, but I will not direct my anger towards you. You are no better than the Maiar or Valar that you claim are ‘pulling the strings here’.” He sketched a quick bow to her before leaving, headed back to his room. All the way back, he could feel Galadriel’s eyes and presence boring into his mind.

* * *

“I know you are there,” Galadriel said once Legolas left the garden area and heard the quiet shuffling of feet before Haldir appeared behind her and though she couldn’t see it, she knew that he had bowed to her before standing quietly.

“You have heard our conversation?”

“Yes, milady. I apologize if I have intruded,” Haldir replied a bit formally, the soft swish of his clothing brushing against the grass on the ground.

“It is all right,” Galadriel raised a hand to wave off his apology. “I know you also harbor anger at me and I do not mind-“

“Milady!”

“Haldir,” Galadriel silenced him, “I know you are angry that I gave him that assignment. But, for his sake and those around him, you must watch him like you would your own brothers.”

“He is my brother, Lady,” Haldir said in a soft voice and Galadriel smiled sadly before waving a hand over her mirror. She knew what was to happen…soon…and she did not like it.

“You knew what happened while flying over the Atlantic. When the final battle against Morgoth is exacted, there will be problems. Protect him, protect the others at all costs…you know of what I ask?”

There was a moment of silence before Haldir replied, “Yes. I will do as you ask, Lady.” A slightly sound of fabric brushing against the grass was all that told Galadriel that her faithful guard-general had left. She was alone again…and this time, with her mirror, she glanced in it and finally let the tears that she had been holding back since her initial meeting with the Fellowship and with Legolas, fall out.

It was one of the few times Galadriel had ever cried and it would be the last.

* * *

Over the next few days, the Fellowship and those that came with them were treated to the fine hospitality of the White City residents and enjoyed peace within its borders.

So when Alec, Gimli, and Legolas were summoned to the White City’s equivalent of the Situation Room in the Golden City, he wasn’t surprise to find out that their short reprieve from all of the fighting was over. He had expected something to happen the moment they lifted off from the Golden City to go to the White City.

While Gandalf had not been too clear on why they were going to the White City, he had a feeling that it was something to do with Morgoth. Well, one evil overlord down and one more to go, he thought wirily as he made his way into the impressive and massive Situation Room in one of the White City’s tall spire-like buildings.

He was surprised though, that Edward hadn’t been called to the meeting. He figured that they would want the former American Army general to provide some insight into defeating Morgoth on this side of the continent. He was even more surprised that the twins didn’t come bounding in as he was so used to them doing that. Instead, they came in, dressed in modern-cut Elvish clothing and gave quick bows to the Elf that had summoned them.

Celeborn was standing by a long table that was lit up to show a wide flat, but colorful map of the whole world. It was similar to the Golden City’s 4D map, with different colored dots representing different forces and stuff.

“Lord Celeborn,” Alec greeted as they all hovered around the table-map, the twins unusually quiet. What was even more unusual was Legolas himself. He thought that it had been something to do with his possession and killing of the three Golden City Elves, but now, he was having second thoughts about the normally quiet Elf. It seemed that there was a strain between Legolas, Celeborn, and Galadriel – even though all of them denied it and tried to hide it – Alec was too much of a professional police officer to let little things like that slip past him.

He had mentioned it to Anna when they had their times alone, and in turn she had tried to ask Galadriel about it, but Galadriel just dismissed her concerns. Now as he looked at Legolas, he definitely noticed a strain on the Elf who was avoiding Celeborn’s sweeping gaze.

Celeborn only replied his greeting with a slight bow of his head before gesturing to the world map laid out before them. “As of this moment, Glorfindel and Cirdan’s forces are landing on the shores of Dublin, Ireland to take it over as a staging point for their assault on London, England in the next few days.”

Alec watched, fascinated, as the map zoomed in upon the United Kingdom area and it showed a mass of green, more like a blob of green in Alec’s humble opinion, converging on the red-colored forces that was scattered throughout the Irish land. He could definitely tell that Cirdan and Glorfindel wouldn’t have any problems taking over Dublin. However…the map showed that most of England, especially London, were red – Saruman’s forces. They practically covered the whole island…

The map suddenly zoomed back out and Celeborn continued, “Frank and Ben Greens are currently in New York City. We’ve recently discovered that David, their father the mayor, had gotten his memories back…unfortunately, they are the memories of the insane Denethor instead of Denethor the righteous. We think the catalyst was when Sauron was destroyed and in turn he has let loose some of the more dangerous mages. Elrond wanted Frank and Ben to calm their father down and try to put some semblance of peace in the Black City before coming over here.”

“But I thought they were going to convince their father to send the National Guard...” Gimli asked, a bit confused.

“That is one part. This is the other,” Celeborn replied.

“So that’s why those lads didn’t come with us,” Gimli looked thoughtful and Alec suddenly had a feeling that if Gimli was back in the Black City, perhaps he would let loose his little “cat” Mittens.

He had taken Gimli aside when they had been in the archaeologist/geologist’s hidey-hole at the defunct Museum of Natural History, and asked him where he found a Siberian Tiger. The only one he had known was the pet of the Emperor of the Russian Consortium – who also happened to be one of the most powerful mages he had ever known about.

Gimli didn’t exactly tell him where he found his Mittens, but told him instead that over the years, since Siberian Tigers were all but extinct, some began to evolve to resist magic and produce their own kind of abilities - not in the terms of magic, but in the terms of survival. He gave a sideways glance at the former dwarf, a bit hard now, considering that Gimli, or George Griston, towered over him by a good half foot.

“So, what about us then?” Alec asked as he knew that there had to be a purpose for Galadriel summoning them to the White City.

Celeborn didn’t answer right away and instead zoomed the map upon the mid-European area where Alec saw that the southern half was covered by green and the northern half covered in red. Then he noticed a small but distinctive white clump that looked like it was in the mid-eastern region of what used to be the country of France, but that couldn’t be right…for such a sprawling beautiful metropolis…

Suddenly it hit him where they were. Where the White City was located… Where everything always converged and always stayed neutral through everything, but now was the focal point of hope and light. It was the place that had served various countries, empires, and governments to discuss the prospect of peace and neutrality. It was safe from everything yet the hub of everything.

Geneva.

Geneva, Switzerland. The White City. The-City-That-Will-Not-Be-Named, The City of Hope, The City-That-Cannot-Fall.

Of all the ironic places, a part of Alec’s mind laughed and he glanced over to Legolas, Gimli, and the twins and saw comprehension on their faces as they figured out where they were. He glanced up at Celeborn and saw the Elf had a half-smile on his face before he spoke again.

“We have summoned all of you here because we will be launching an assault on the Shadow Horror City,” Celeborn pointed straight at the heart of the red mass that looked forebodingly like blood. “It is our request that you, Alexander Richard, take command of the Elvish and human forces from all over our region.”

Alec blinked. Then blinked again. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. All his mind was thinking was a very old human slang. WTF? The words that composed it were highly vulgar, especially the last word of the short phrase, but it gave life and meaning to what he wanted to express at the moment. The heads of Lorien Incorporated wanted him to lead an army?

Well…it did seem right… He had a brief flash of himself leading a huge army across plains before he blinked again. He _had_ led an army… In his various past lives…almost every other one of them he had led an army to victory somewhere, sometimes at the cost of his own life, sometimes at the cost of others – but each time, there was victory.

“You knew that my former lives led armies…is that why you want me to this time?” he asked Celeborn in a simple manner.

Celeborn nodded, “Yes, but if you focus on a certain memory, you might come to see that this campaign will be similar to the one taken in a former life. One involving the Nano War.”

Those words were the trigger for a sudden avalanche of former memories that suddenly bombarded and assaulted his mind. He saw flashes and bits of imagery, as if from both a third person and first person view, like he was watching a movie of sorts, and saw what Celeborn had been talking about…yes…the Nano War… His former incarnation during that war had been a fearless General, but also had died during the assault on a particular city known as Therin’s Hill.

Alec was thrown rather violently back in the present and he looked up at Celeborn with newfound eyes and memories. He knew what the stakes here was, he knew what had to be done…and he knew that he was the only one to do so.

“I’ll accept command.”

* * *

In short the Fellowship once again was divided and its members going to different paths. Celeborn and Galadriel along with Anna stayed in the White City, coordinating everything. Gandalf had taken Sam and Fred to see the Valar and Maiar, to convince them to bring an army as it seemed finally Gandalf was breaking free of the restraints set against him by his master Lorien.

Alec had taken command of a great host of Elves and humans that populated the area near the White City and Cirdan’s realm. His second in command was Galadriel and Celeborn’s faithful guard-general Haldir. Legolas, Gimli, the twins and their jet squadron and Phil accompanied him along with the 1,000 strong army from the Silver City lead by none other than Erdaliel the guard-general of Thranduil.

Edward, Liz, and Matt were to head to Paris, where apparently, the reincarnation of King Theoden ruled his own little Parisian Empire – completely neutral to everything happening. Galadriel had told them that the Parisian Empire contained one of the most well-trained armies, both in their mage forces and non-mage forces. The Parisian Army would be a great asset when they all made their final assault on the Shadow Horror City.

The war against Morgoth had begun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long, I returned to college and hectic work schedules. Anyways, congratulations to Return of the King for picking up the Best Drama Picture Golden Globe and receiving 11 nominations for the Oscars!


	32. Frank & Ben

It had been three days since the Fellowship and a few other Elves went to the White City. And in those three days, Frank and Ben, the remaining Fellowship members who stayed in the Golden City, arrived back at the Black City, not as black now as sunlight streamed through hazy grey clouds, but still it held an air of evil. Elrond and the others of Lorien Incorporated wanted them to ask their father, the mayor of the Black City to send its National Guard, one of the most powerful besides Washington D.C.’s, to help aid them in defeating Morgoth across the blue expanse of the Atlantic Ocean.

But there was one slight catch.

No…make that two.

One thing was that Mayor David Greens hated Ben and didn’t want anything to do with him, and barely contained his despised feelings towards his eldest son Frank. Two…apparently their father’s reincarnated memories had woken up after Sauron’s defeat – not as the great Denethor before the War of the Ring, but as the insane Denethor who was power hungry and tried to kill his own son, Faramir during the Battle of Pelennor Fields.

The first one wasn’t too much of a problem as both brothers were used to dealing with their pig-headed father…but throw in the second one and mix everything up in a nice little galactic blender… Frank wasn’t too sure if this was a sane idea. He wondered briefly if Elrond was going senile for his age…but then rejected the idea as he realized that Galadriel was a lot older and would have to have gone senile first before Elrond…

Or perhaps his first thought was correct; after all, Elrond was Half-Elven, even though he chose his Elvish heritage. Humans did go senile in old age…

But he didn’t have time to worry anymore as he and his brother made their way up the mayor’s office in downtown Manhattan, except City Hall wasn’t a grand building anymore, but a tall skyscraper.

Both brothers were dressed in their civilian clothing, not the ones given to them by the Elves, but their own that they had – after Erestor, another of Elrond’s aides had dropped them off in the Black City. They had both parted ways to pick up some things from their own apartments, and decided to meet up in the front of the skyscraper that was City Hall.

“Remind me once more, Frank, why the hell are we doing this?” Ben asked as both watched the numbers scroll upwards in the elevator they were in.

“Because Dad’s gone crazy with his reincarnated memories and we might need some of the National Guard to send over to help the others defeat Morgoth. And because it’s about high time someone give him a piece of their mind,” Frank replied deadpanned.

If the sarcastic joke fell on Ben, it fell on deaf ears as he frowned and leaned against the posh maple wood elevator’s walls, one of his fingers absently tracing the gold inlay of decorative geometric patterns embedded inside of the wood. “I don’t think the National Guard would do anything…”

“Ben, Dad controls at least most of the Northeastern corridor of military forces, with the exception of Edward’s rogue army. If we can get at least half of them to go, then they would be able to help. Plus the Pentagon and those assholes in Washington D.C. are too pigheaded to send anyone,” Frank replied, staring at the numbers, willing them to speed up. They were almost there…

He could feel the memories of his former life as Faramir float around his mind, and realized that it was a miracle that his brain hadn’t exploded yet with so many memories. Sometimes an unbidden memory would surface and though some of those memories were nice, they were most annoying for most part. He was a practical man, a man who was the police commissioner of the NYPD.

But it was certain irony, he realized now, that his younger brother Ben, as Boromir had been his older brother, and had found favor with their father Denethor. Now, he, was in favor (or at least much favor as their father showed) of their father David, while Ben was always pushed aside.

“Listen, the last time I spoke with him was when he gave me the promotion to chief of a precinct, and that was five years ago. I don’t think that in his state he’ll be happy to see either of us,” Ben groused.

Frank sighed and ran a hand through his short brown hair, rubbing the back of his neck as a habit. When Elrond sent the Fellowship out to assassinate Sauron, he had been very worried about his brother and what the Undead connection did to his condition. Thankfully though, the Elves worked their miracles and his brother seemed to be back to his usual self, save for the occasional shudder. Frank wondered even if they killed the Undead who marked him and the Witch King who controlled the Undead will his brother be free of its affects – would it be like with what happened with the One Ring?

“Well, maybe as Denethor, he’ll be happy to see you…” he replied.

“Or as a meld he’ll not be happy to see either of us. Think about it, Frank…if Dad’s himself, he hates me, but as Denethor, he loves me. As Dad he kinda loves you better than me, but as Denethor, he hates you,” Ben explained and Frank turned around to stare at him.

“Either that, he hates us both or loves us both…” he finished his brother’s thought, and then shook his head, “nah…can’t happen.”

“True,” Ben agreed, his face twisting into a disgusted expression at the last statement about their father loving them both.

Frank grinned slightly before the grin was wiped off of his face as he saw a sudden haunted expression on his brother’s face. “Ben?”

His brother didn’t answer for a moment and instead seemed to be focusing on a point beyond the doors of the elevator. The number ticked a couple of floors away from their stop.

“Something’s wrong…there’s…evil up there…” Ben suddenly said in strained voice.

The elevator pinged and stopped. Their floor.

Frank unclipped his gun and snapped the safety off, holding it down, his senses alert for anything unusual. As the door to the elevators opened, oh-so-slowly, he noticed Ben recovering his senses and grab onto something hidden in the folds of his black leather trench coat. Frank had a feeling that it wasn’t a gun…so…what kind of weapon did his brother carry?

An eerily familiar wail resounded across the hall beyond the elevator and Frank met his brother’s eyes and the same thought ran through the brother’s heads. _Oh shit…_

That’s when the first Orc poked its head in…and was promptly decapitated.

* * *

Ben’s sword went flying out of his sheath and he viciously decapitated the Orc that had stuck its head in. Blood went flying all over the elevator, staining its walls and gold inlays, but he moved out into the hall before their father’s office, with a war cry. Behind him, he heard the firing of Frank’s gun as Orcs surrounded them from all different directions.

That was what he had sensed, the evil before they arrived. He knew that his connection to the Undead Robert had been severed, but it left him with a sixth sense of sorts…and right now he was very glad that it was so damn useful.

He spun around and landed on his knee before stabbing another Orc through the stomach. Gripping both arms around the pommel of his long sword, he pulled out his sword and swung downwards, killing another one. Its shrieks filled the air and he barely glanced at it before cutting another path through the swath of Orcs swarming them.

Damn…how many were there? He wondered briefly as he hacked away left and right. He couldn’t hear the sounds of his brother’s gun anymore, but he wasn’t too worried as he knew that Frank had packed in a hidden sheath inside of his dark grey duster a scimitar. He was probably using that weapon as he continued to hear inhuman shrieks of agony coming from somewhere in the big hall that was not his doing.

He didn’t feel any signs of mages, and was relieved that all there was were Orcs, but what worried him even more was why did the hall before their father’s office was filled with them? Had David Greens, the Mayor of the Black City been assassinated as retribution to the Fellowship destroying Sauron? Or was it that David acquired Orcs because of his maniacal nature?

As he slowly made his way forward to the doors, the pile of Orc bodies growing larger and larger by his feet, he kept a sharp eye out for any Uruk Hai. If Orcs existed, then surely Uruks did too and he did not want to encounter any of them…particularly the one who killed him, Lurtz.

He had sworn when he was with the Fellowship on their mission to assassinated Sauron, that he would not die this time. He would survive and even if he had to save the college-enrolled hobbits, he would survive. Besides, dying hurt like hell.

Slowly as the two brothers made their way closer to the door, the number of Orcs coming after them dwindled, until the last vestiges of the swarm was eliminated. Silence once again reined the grand hall and harsh breaths coming from both brothers, exhausted, broke the stillness.

Underneath them, was the corpses of bloodied orcs, some which gave their dying breaths, but all of the made a lovely décor of a carpet in the grand hall. Ben leaned against a column next to the massive double doors to their father’s office. He waved his sword to the side, flicking off Orc guts and blood, but it was still covered in a thin coating of it. Grimacing, he noted that he would have to clean it later after they dealt with their father.

“You okay?” Frank’s voice asked in concern and Ben looked up to see him cleaning off his scimitar with a dirty cloth before sheathing it. His brother tossed him the cloth and Ben caught it before wiping his own sword clean and sheathing it. He tossed the cloth aside and shrugged at Frank.

“I’m fine. Just curious though…what’s with all the Orcs?”

“You think Dad knows that we’re coming?” Frank asked and Ben nodded.

“Yeah. Good chance of that…”

“Shall we then?” Frank gestured grandly and mockingly and Ben snorted before opening the door.

* * *

As soon as his brother opened the door, Frank’s senses were all on alert for anything possible. Considering that Orcs had filled the hall before their father’s office, he had expected perhaps Uruk Hai or even Wargs to be guarding their father. From what, was his question, but he had no doubt that it could have been from them or from potential assassins now that Denethor had full control of the Black City with the fall of Sauron.

His alertness was overrated as the grand office their father laired in was completely empty, save for a figure sitting in front of polished mahogany desk, fingers steepled and staring at them with cold eyes. Their father, Mayor David Greens, the reincarnation of Denethor son of Ecthelion.

“How did you two get in here?” was the first growling words out of Greens’ mouth and Frank knew that the personality merge had resulted in their father hating both of them. _Lovely. Just lovely_ , he thought, as he was about to take a bold step forward when his brother beat him to the rush.

“Oh, you mean those Orcs outside? They were terribly rude to us, so we just gave them their due respect,” Ben gestured to the partially opened door as they walked forward towards their father.

“What?!” Greens hissed and half stood, but Frank drew out his gun, reloaded and pointed it at his father. A part of him said that it was a crazy idea and that no son would ever point a gun at their father, but another part of him said, ‘who gives a shit’. He faintly realized that it was his other reincarnated selves battling it out amongst each other inside of him and knew that for some irony if this happened in another age and if he was the only one, they would lock him up in an insane asylum.

“Sit down and shut up,” the police inside of him barked out, “we want answers, _Dad_.”

To his credit, Mayor Greens sat down slowly and Frank knew that there was some part of their father who was not insane, or either that, very calculating and waiting for them to make the wrong move.

“What the hell happened to the Black City?” Ben asked.

“What do you mean? I’m the Mayor and so I control it.”

“Yeah, right,” Ben continued, snorting in a bitter laugh, “there are wild mages running loose. More so than before Sauron was destroyed. You’re just going to let them take over the city and kill innocent humans?”

“No one is innocent,” Greens sneered, “and besides, I’ve sent the National Guard to deal with them.”

Frank raised a skeptical eyebrow, “Yeah…sure… I think you just sent the Guard out to be fodder, didn’t you? How come you’re the one in charge here?”

“Because I am the Mayor,” Greens replied.

“No, you know what I mean, Dad, why the hell did you do this? Why are you doing this? Don’t you have the better memories of Denethor?! What about Mom? What the hell do you think she’s doing? She’s rolling in her grave because of you! Don’t you remember her?” Ben suddenly exploded and Frank stared at his younger brother in surprise. He had always known that as both Boromir and as Benjamin Greens he was hot headed, but not like this… They had almost never talked about their mom since she died 20 years ago.

“Your mother…” Greens started in a hoarse voice, “was…a whore.”

Frank stared at his father…did he say what he thought he heard?

“Your mother was nothing but riddance to this land. I was so glad when she died. You never knew how much I wanted to be rid of her,” Greens continued, his voice rising higher and higher with each word. White frothing spittle formed at the corners of his mouth and he began to wave his arms around frantically.

Frank backpedaled a few steps, alarmed at his father’s sudden erratic behavior. Perhaps his memory as Denethor made him very demented and unstable…that would be the case as David Greens sure looked like it. He glanced at his brother who, curiously, had a concentrated expression on his face.

“Ben?” he prodded him.

“There’s something not right about this,” Ben murmured.

“Um, yeah, duh, where did you come to that conclusion?” Frank shot back, keeping one eye on their father who by now was laughing maniacally, hands raised in the air. Frank expected lighting to burst forth in a horrible rendition of an ancient, but classic movie trilogy created way back in the late 20th Century called Star Wars Trilogy. There had been an evil character in there who raised his hands and called for lightning to kill the hero of the trilogy…

Just as suddenly, their father gave a spasming shudder and Frank’s eyes bugged as he saw the raised arms suddenly turn translucent, almost see-through…and a sheen of slimy coating formed on his skin, from his face to his fingers…almost…

“Shit man! He’s Undead!” Ben drew out his gun and reloaded it with a fresh clip. “Aim for the head!”

Without a second thought Frank fired at the Undead’s head, his finger never letting go of the trigger. A part of him knew that their father was already dead; whoever had converted him to be an Undead had already taken his soul and twisted it into something dark and horrible. This wasn’t their father standing before them…no, David Greens was already long dead before they even reached the Black City.

The Undead reeled back with each bullet coming towards his head, until the clips were emptied, but refilled quickly. Frank held his fire as he reloaded his third clip, watching as the Undead that was formerly their father stagger a big before he toppled to the side, destroyed.

Frank heaved a small sigh of relief, but then was alert as clapping came from the shadows behind their father’s chair and desk. He pointed his gun at the darkness and saw Ben do the same, his other hand gripping his sword tightly. One thing he had been jealous of Boromir for was his ability to be ambidextrous with any weapon he got his hands on. While he usually favored his right hand while fighting, it wasn’t too much a nuisance for him to switch to his left if need be.

“Well done, well done,” the voice was that of a child and Frank had a very bad feeling who the voice belonged to. His fears were confirmed as David, the Nazgul Witch King, still in the guise of a mere harmless-looking boy stepped out.

 _We are in deep shit_ , he thought as he stared at the boy’s glowing red eyes.

* * *

Ben froze as he saw the Witch King step out from the shadows. The Elves had told him that his connection to the Undead Robert had been completely severed, but they hadn’t told him that he was still able to feel a presence of sorts that defined the Witch King inside of his head, still tempting him, still coaxing him to turn against the Fellowship and accept the powers of a Wilder to use for his own and for power.

He had never told anyone of his inner struggle, as he knew that the face that he put on for the rest of the Fellowship was something completely different. He wanted to protect them, but with him as just a lowly human, how could he when he had his own inner demons to battle? He was glad that he wasn’t in front of Lady Galadriel’s presence as she had an uncanny ability to ferret out whatever it was that laid dormant inside of his heart.

It was a coward’s way, he didn’t want to face it, but now…with the Witch King just barely away from them, them temptation was a lot stronger…

_Come…turn on your brother…after all, you were the eldest of all and had the respect…_

_He has always held you back…that’s why he got the position of Commissioner while you were just reduced to Captain of a Precinct…_

_You want that power…you want to prove to Aragorn you can take care of the Hobbits can’t you?_

_Yes…release it!_

Ben squeezed his eyes shut as he heard the Witch King’s voice inside of his mind. No…he couldn’t. Somehow it was all wrong…somehow…he had to…

_You can show Elrond that you do not need the Elves’ help in defeating Morgoth…_

_You can show Legolas that you are not the only one who is able to wield magic…and surpass him too…_

Yes…he had been extremely jealous to find out that all Elves were mages while the human population had to either be born a mage or take Dust with Mage-Link to become mages. Dust was something only those who were rich were able to afford, and those taken away for science experiments by Zenith Technologies. He remembered that he had tried to sign up, but was rejected because of his familial connections.

## Come…accept your true power…

 _No…no…no…NO!!!!_ Ben’s eyes snapped open and he glared at the Witch King. “I won’t bow to you, not to you or your master Morgoth,” he whispered towards the boy.

David only stared at him with a simple gaze before raking the two of them with another stare. “This was only a test,” gone was the boy’s voice and replaced with a hissing one. “However…perhaps another worthy candidate will be those that you hold dear to your heart…perhaps, the Maiden and her Helper? Yes…they will do fine…”

David suddenly disappeared before their eyes and silence reigned once more in the office of the late Mayor Greens. There was something odd about the Witch King’s last statement, something foreboding about it…

The Helper…and Maiden…

Ben suddenly turned and stared at Frank just as his brother stared back at him. “Merry…Eowyn!” both said at the same time. “Shit!”


	33. Liz, Ed & Matt

The helicopter ride was mostly uneventful, but it could have been a lot smoother, in Elizabeth Ruthersfield’s opinion. Her brother was piloting the helicopter and had wanted to test out the Elves’ technology by doing a few of what he called “test runs” on the helicopter while they were flying towards Paris to meet up with the reincarnation of their Uncle and former King Theoden of Rohan.

That made at least her, Matt, and a few of Ed’s contacts in the White City a bit sick. Liz had not been surprised to find that her brother’s contacts were reincarnated Rohirrim – in fact it seemed fitting considering the White City was a haven for everyone to find news and whatnot. While the rest of them endured the bumpy plane ride, Matt, however, became very sick – so sick that Liz asked Ed to stop with the antics and just give a smooth flight.

Her brother had been chagrined to find that he made one of the former hobbits sick, and apologized before righting their course. They landed on one of the platforms of the city of Paris, the heart of the once French Empire, now just a kingdom of itself, noting the beauty of the city from thousands of years ago was still preserved. There was a modern feel to the city, yet its old structures, the brownstone like buildings to the cobblestones and 20th Century modern streets.

It was an odd feeling, as if someone had put a time warp on everything and sent them back to the 20th Century and before. But through this antiquated look, the modern technology was subtly hidden. As Liz stepped off of the helicopter, winds whipped her long blonde hair, tied up in a braided ponytail, and she shielded her eyes from the fierce winds. They weren’t high up from the ground level, but Paris had always been a bit windy, at least in her opinion.

She was dressed in the dress uniform for the New York Police Department, somehow procured by the Elves in the White City. A few of the reincarnated Rohirrim were dressed in expensive business suits, representing the White City’s Lorien Incorporated, while Matt was dressed in a stylishly cut suit that the Elves provided for them. Liz was very surprised at how much Galadriel and her people provided for them, but then realized that she was probably very, very, very rich.

Her brother came out a few minutes after her, having quickly changed into his dress uniform of the United States Army, minus his medals because of his rogue status. Liz had to admit that her brother looked very smart in his uniform, even if he wore a perpetual frown. There was always something about men and uniforms. She was still wondering why her brother was still single, with not even a girl attached to his arm. She had tried to hook him up with a few of her friends, but each time he had refused and so she had given up, but now…

“You should be married by now, or at least have a girlfriend,” she teased him as she hooked an arm around his, making him her escort.

“No thank you,” he replied politely, “none until this thing is over.”

Liz rolled her eyes in exasperation before they walked into the building, Matt following behind them. Their escort took them down an elevator before leading them through a set of double doors.

“The King awaits you,” their escort said and bowed to them as they walked past and into the court of King Theod I, king of Paris and ruling lands.

It was spacious but it seemed very bare and cold. Stone and polished marble lined the walls and floors, giving it a texture of the old days, but the walls were covered with coats of arms, swords, spears, all different weaponry ranging from the ancient periods of time to the most modern. At the far end of the court was the throne of King Theod I, and Liz barely held back a gasp at seeing the Reincarnated form of her Uncle Theoden.

He looked almost exactly like his original form…the beard, the hair…the facial expression of the perpetual frown. It took almost all of her self will not to rush and embrace him. They had been warned by Galadriel that Theod did not remember any of his previous Reincarnations and most certainly did not remember that he had been King Theoden of Rohan.

“We bring greetings and good tidings from Lord Charles Teleri and Lady Gabrielle Nenya of the White City,” her brother spoke in a formal tone bowing slightly to King Theod. Liz did the same, taking her hat off and she glanced at Matt before he too bowed, a bit hastily. Their escorts behind them also gave small bows before standing at attention. Charles Teleri and Gabrielle Nenya were Celeborn and Galadriel’s human names…and Liz had laughed at the irony of them. She was a big fan of Tolkien’s works and knew where each of the last names came from…

“I bid them greetings too from one trading partner to another. Please, tell me your names as I have never seen you before. Were you not sent by the Elves?”

Liz blinked and quickly glanced at her brother, noticing the fleeting startled expression before he replaced it with a calm demeanor. If King Theod knew about the Elves….then?

“Of course Elves exist. This is the future after all. Anything can happen,” Theod’s next words convinced her that while he knew about Elves, that was about the extent of his past memories

“We were sent by them your Highness,” his brother replied in a formal tone, “I am General Edward Ruthersfield of the United States Army. This lady to my right is my sister, Elizabeth and to my left is my lieutenant, Matthew Biggs.”

She noticed that Matt had jumped a bit at being mentioned as Ed’s lieutenant. So her brother had finally accepted that Matt was a warrior of his own and promoted him at the same time to become one of his lieutenants. Liz quirked a small smile on the corner of her lips before she stared back at King Theod who was rubbing his chin, a curious expression on his face.

“General Ruthersfield you say? The rogue General of the United States Army?”

“Yes your highness,” Ed replied in a neutral voice.

“Your reputation precedes you, General,” Theod started in a low voice that made Liz tense a bit. “Generals are not supposed to go against their government, but in your case, I think you did the right thing. The Elves were good enough to take you into their fold and make you their new representative in our trading agreements.”

Liz breathed a sigh of relief that she didn’t know she had been holding.

“Come now, what trade does the Elves of the White City request?” Theod suddenly was all business.

“There is a war brewing, your Highness,” Ed started, “the Elves and Men of the White City are going to war against a darkness that has risen again. We were sent to enlist the aid of Paris’ armies to help us.”

“A growing darkness you say…does this darkness have a name?”

Ed hesitated before answering, “There is a name, your Highness, but to speak it right now would put disbelief in your mind. This darkness has been waiting for a long time and only now, has it risen to destroy this world.”

“My scouts have been telling me of whispers of a nameless evil that lurks to the north. They say it resides in the City-That-Cannot-Be-Named, what is now called the Shadow Horror City,” Theod pitted them with a calculating stare before sitting up, “you are vague, yet there is something about your demeanor that has otherwise made me think. Please, stay as my guests while I discuss the matter with my councilors.”

He gestured to a few servants who stepped forward, bowing to him, “My servants will take your party to rooms set up for you. Please join me for dinner later today. We will talk more of the war then.”

Liz stood up once more and bowed before following behind her brother as they followed a servant who led them from the court and into the spacious stone hallways of Theod’s keep.

“This way, sirs and ma’am,” the servant murmured as she turned left into another hall. They were about half way down the hall when a shout made them stop and turn around.

“Eomer! Eowyn! Is it truly you?!” a fairly handsome young man still dressed in the robes of the court came rushing up to them and it was only when he got closer that Liz felt her heart seize up and a small gasp escaped her lips.

“Who-“ her brother started before she rushed up to the man and was swept up in a giant hug.

“Theodred! Theodred, Theodred, Theodred!” she cried, tears pouring down the sides of her face as she buried her head in his broad shoulders.

“Eowyn! I knew it was you the moment I saw you in the court of my father’s. Oh it’s been so long!” Theodred hugged her tightly before releasing her and stepping back. Liz moved aside to let her brother embrace their Reincarnated cousin a broad smile on her face.

“Too long brother, too long,” Ed embraced Theodred fiercely before stepping back.

“It’s not really Theodred though. This age, it’s Terrance, the next in line to the throne of Paris,” Theodred smiled a bit before he looked beyond them, “Ed, never would have thought that you’d pick a lieutenant so young. He looks almost in the beginnings of his college years!”

“Oh,” Ed turned a bit to gesture for Matt to step up, “this is Matthew Biggs. Apparently since you know about your past, you have read Tolkien’s works, haven’t you?”

“Yes…wait a minute. You’re telling me that this young man is Meriadoc Brandybuck of the Shire? The one who pledged fealty to my father, Theoden?”

“Yes,” Ed smiled as Matt blushed a bit, embarrassed by the attention.

“Then, thank you, Master Hobbit,” Theodred suddenly bowed down on one knee, “thank you for your courage, valor to help my country.”

“But-but,” Matt started to splutter, “I’m just his Reincarnation…I don’t even-“

“It doesn’t matter,” Theodred cut him off, “I am forever in your debt.”

“O-Okay…I guess,” Matt trailed off before backing a bit away, sheepish.

Theodred got up and gave them a smile before his expression turned serious. “My father doesn’t have the memories of his previous life, but he has some snatches of it. That’s why he knows of the Elves and of the Shadow Horror City. I’ve had mine since I was young and quite a few of this court also has theirs. They’re former Rohirrim, Ed, and they know of you as Eomer. If my father is convinced or if he isn’t they will follow you.”

“Are they trained as robotic horsemen or as foot soldiers?”

“Of course the Rohirrim are horsemen, Ed, have you forgotten? But we also do have the latest in weaponry, tanks, planes, whatever was left over from the Nano Wars and improved upon. The real thing we lack is ships, but that is because Cirdan’s realm encircles us,” Theodred explained, “however, I must war you of something.”

“What?” Liz noticed that Theodred was staring at her.

“Grima Wormtongue is in my father’s court. My father absolutely refuses to send him away and while I have urged him to, his mind set is that the man is a good servant. I know of what transpired between you and him, Elizabeth, but it is my need to inform you to protect you. We do not know if he is working for Saruman, but so far he hasn’t twitched or given any indication that he is working with the Enemy.

“These are your rooms,” Theodred suddenly stopped and Liz hadn’t realized that they had been walking while chatting with each other. “Please, be on your guard. While many here in Paris are loyal to you, there are still dangers lurking about. We’ve heard what happened to the Nazgul…there are far more dangers than the ones you’ve faced in the Golden City, but many of them are subtle.

“I must take my leave now. Father will need some convincing to aid the White City Elves and their war against Morgoth,” he gave a ghost of a smile, “Yes I know of Galadriel and her Elves and I know of Morgoth and of Sauron.”

With that he left them, the servant that had been sent to escort them following behind him. Liz watched as he turned and corner and disappeared from her sight before looking at both Ed and Matt. “I’ll be fine, Ed,” she soothed her brother, “I can take care of myself.”

“I know, but it’s just that-“

“Ed, I killed the Witch King. Grima Wormtongue should be nothing in comparison.”

“Still-“

“Good _bye_ ,” she emphasized before shutting the door on their faces to her room. Alone, she heaved a sigh of relief. Though she was touched that her brother was concerned for her, it was still annoying to have him hover over her like an overgrown bat, considering the fact that he only recently found out of Grima’s existence.

She turned around and looked around the room she had been assigned. It was spacious and beautiful. Little torch-like lamps lit the walls while lamps were placed everywhere to give the room light. There were no fluorescent bulbs like those of the great Elvish cities, but it was a subtle touch of the ancient period of the Renaissance.

However, modern amenities were already in the room and Liz spotted a computer kiosk on a desk. She sat down in front of it and checked the nets for any news concerning the Black City. A part of her worried for her fiancé and she hoped he was all right.

As she scrolled through the news items, she briefly wondered was she doing the right thing by going on this quest of sorts. What was she doing? Fulfilling a part of her former self as Eowyn the Shield Maiden? Some part of her that longed to finish what she had started?

It was all confusing, but Liz knew of one thing that was clear, of the evils she had seen in both the Black City and Golden City, there shouldn’t have been this much abundant evil lying around. It was her job, and the job of her friends to help clean it up. After all, they were just pieces in what was probably a much larger game.

* * *

Edward Ruthersfield stared at the shut door to his sister’s room. He knew that she was fiercely private but even now he believed that she should take Theodred’s warning seriously. But she seemed indifferent to it and though he didn’t doubt her abilities as on of the NYPD, it was still the brotherly side of him that worried for her safety.

“She took that well,” Matt commented behind him and he glared pointedly at the former Hobbit to which he shut up immediately.

“I’m going to find some guards for her room. You stay in yours. I don’t want you out wandering. We haven’t established a secure perimeter yet,” he said in a hard voice.

“Okay…but General-“

“You can call me Ed or Eomer if it helps, Matt,” he interrupted him.

“Uh…Eomer,” Matt looked a bit uncomfortable but shrugged it off, “were you serious as taking me on as a lieutenant of yours? I mean, technically don’t I have to volunteer for the Army?”

“Civilian lieutenant, Matthew. There’s a difference. Right now you’re a better asset to me than any of my men except for a few because you’ve got experience and you have your Reincarnated memories. A few of my men and women do have their memories, but they’re not as prominent as I would like them to be.”

“Oh…so then, I guess…thank you?” the college kid seemed a bit nervous and Ed sighed, losing what many of his comrades and his sister had dubbed the ‘military face’. He ruffled the boy’s hair, still surprised to see how tall the former Hobbit had grown. It threw him many loops to see Matt almost as tall as him – he still pictured him as Hobbit-sized.

“It’s a volunteer position, Matt. I’m not forcing you to join, but I did mention you as my lieutenant because you know as well as I do what the stakes are to get the Parisian Army mobilized. You don’t have to be my lieutenant but for now, you’ll be able to find information that perhaps someone can be holding from me because of my status.”

“Okay…I accept it, and thank you, but you’ve changed a lot Gen-uh- Eomer. You’re different…”

“Kid, not all Reincarnations are the same. We change. The only people that don’t seem to change are the Elves.”

“Good point,” Matt looked thoughtful, “but, sir, if people change, doesn’t that mean that Grima Wormtongue’s current incarnation could be different?”

“Hah! That evil little creature? Not a chance,” Ed snorted lightly. He didn’t believe for a minute that Wormtongue had changed. There was no way that evil foul human would have changed. Once a traitor always a traitor…that was what he believed.

“If you say so sir,” Matt looked a bit confused.

Ed stared at the former Hobbit for a bit before he clapped the young man on his shoulder. “Don’t think too much about it, all right? I’ll be back later.” He walked down the hall, making sure his pace was even and not hurried. Matt’s words disturbed him a bit…and some doubt of Wormtongue’s true intentions were lingering in his mind… Could Matt be right? Could Grima Wormtongue’s current incarnation not be as evil as he was back in the Third Age of the Sun?

“Nah…can’t be,” he whispered as he shook his head and continued down another hall, determined to find the guards that had accompanied them to post one outside of his sister’s door.

* * *

Matthew Biggs had always considered himself a sensible man. Though he was just barely starting his college years, he was already a sophomore and that had to count as something. He was street smart, but he was also book smart. Eomer’s words concerning Grima Wormtongue just seemed wrong somehow. During the lull time in the White City, he had explored the Elves’ vast library of knowledge and did some digging into the history where he remembered snippets from his own memory.

It was for curiosity at first, but as he ran through the actions of the time periods he was reincarnated, he began to realize that though he possessed what was essentially the core of Meriadoc Brandybuck, he wasn’t really him per se. There was something different, as if all of his past incarnations have each done their own significant thing that made them seem like Merry, but yet retain their own individual status.

He also noticed that in each of his previous incarnations that he could remember, his personality was a bit different from Merry’s. Each time he had been reborn, there was more and more of a personality change. He had gone from the curious Hobbit to a warrior…to a gentleman, to something that he didn’t know what was for. But it seemed that this time, he retained all of the personalities and it merged with him.

He was Merry, but he was also Matthew Biggs. He was a part of the Fellowship, but this time he brought something different to the new Fellowship. It wasn’t skills per se, but it was something definitely different.

So for Eomer to think that Grima Wormtongue not to have changed, it had to be very narrow-minded. Everything changed with the passage of time, couldn’t Eomer see that? Even the Elves changed, though some more subtly than others. Legolas had changed. Gone was the sprightly Elf that had initially joined the Fellowship, cheerful and always with a lovely tune to sing during the dull days of travel. Though by their journey’s end they had all matured and changed more, Legolas’ demeanor was by far a shocking contrast from the Third Age to now, the Twentieth Age of the Sun.

Even Gandalf had changed. Though Merry could see it was more subtle than anything, the wizard had changed through all of the years. He was more unwilling to bend rules and seemed a bit more restrained in his efforts. During their battle to protect the Golden City from the remnant forces of Sauron, though he was stuck in the Healing Hall, he had seen the restraint Gandalf had on his own being to stop from lashing out against the enemy. He knew that Gandalf was able to defeat so many enemies like he did in all the battles previous, but it seemed now that Gandalf was willing to let a few die in order for something higher to be achieved.

That wasn’t like the Gandalf he knew….

But besides the ones who were immortal, the changes of his fellow reincarnated friends and allies…everyone had changed. Lady Eowyn had changed. Though she was still feisty and had a temper, she was more cautious and knew what she had to do. She had become cool, calculating, not diving headfirst into things that Matt had seen her do when they were Merry and Eowyn.

“Everybody changes, but the question is, is that change for the better or worst?” he whispered mostly to himself as he noticed the time that told it was close to dinner and began to dig through the dresser and closet that was in his room. He was mildly surprised to find clothing his exact size…

“Or the better question would be, is Morgoth expecting us to be ourselves or to be something different? Sauron thought we were ourselves, we showed him otherwise,” he muttered as he pulled on a pair of trousers and picked a nice looking dress shirt from the closet. Everything in the closet looked a bit old, but they were stylishly cut.

“The Nazgul thought we would be the same yet we would also be different,” he spoke to his own image in the mirror as he adjusted the buttons. “But then, is everyone regressing? Is it just me who finds that not everything is the same?”

He finished adjusting the last parts of his outfit before deciding that he looked presentable enough and walked to the door. He opened it and suddenly felt his jaw drop a few inches as he stared at who was standing in the hall.

He never knew that she had long blonde hair. He had always seen it either tied up or underneath a cap of sorts. But now, she had let her hair down and it carpeted her back like a wavy sheet. She was dressed in a dark green gown, made of material that looked velvety…and for those long seconds he stared at her, he saw not Elizabeth Ruthersfield, but Eowyn, the Shield Maiden.

“M-Milady Eowyn,” he hastily bowed low to her, barely noticing that the guard Eomer had posted by her door had also bowed.

“Oh please, get up. I’m not Eowyn, I’m only her current incarnation,” she snapped at them and Matt shook his head trying to clear the image of her as the Shield Maiden and stuffing the image of her as one of the NYPD back into his mind, but it was hard work.

“Now then,” Liz approached him and Matt swallowed, a bit nervous in her presence. Though she was older than he was, she was still very beautiful and the Merry part of Matt felt nervous to be before her, especially in light that she was the one that had taken him into battle when King Theoden had not allowed it. “Will you be a gentleman and escort me?”

“Uh, sure milady,” Matt hastily linked his arm around hers, still kind of surprised that he was taller than she was, but only by a couple of inches.

“It’s not milady, Matt. I’m just still Liz Ruthersfield, okay?” she sighed as they walked towards the court of King Theod I, where the dining hall was adjacent to it.

“Okay…” Matt still wasn’t sure how to address her, but didn’t say anything anymore as they approached the double doors to the court and a foot soldier opened the door for them.

There were still people in the court, and they murmured and whispered to each other as he and Liz passed through, turning to their left to enter the dining hall. At the doors to the dining hall a guard asked for their names.

“Master Matthew Biggs and Lady Elizabeth Ruthersfield,” the guard called out and Matt felt very awkward. He wasn’t used to such pomp and circumstances; he was just a city kid who grew up on the streets of the Black City. He knew nothing of the sort but somehow, his body knew what to do. He figured it had to be one of his past incarnations who knew what the hell was going on.

Glancing at Liz, he noticed that she was wearing an imperious expression, aloof, piercing gaze and carried herself like royalty. She had the hang of what was going on…he didn’t and he felt a bit embarrassed. However, his embarrassment was gone when he saw how the people seated at the long table reacted to her. Most of them had shock written on their face and a few of them mouthed ‘Eowyn’. Suppressing the urge to snicker, he knew that they had nearly the same reactions he did when he first saw her in the dress.

They were led by another guard to their place at the table, which was two seats away from the King. Matt sat next to Ed while Liz sat across from them, next to Theodred who whispered something into her ear that made her give him a wicked looking smile.

It was then that his attention was distracted with a bed of salad that was placed in front of him in an exquisite and expensive looking plate. He stared at the artful decoration of the lettuce, a sudden urge gripping him – he didn’t want to ruin the pretty looking food.

“If you keep staring at the food, it might insult the King,” Ed whispered to him before taking a bite out of his salad.

“But…it’s…pretty…” Matt trailed off, realizing how foolish he sounded. He hastily stared at the multitude of forks that was on one side of his plate and realized that he didn’t know which one he should choose.

“Outer to inner. Use your fork and knife and don’t finish everything,” Ed leaned over again before returning to his food.

“Thanks,” Matt whispered before picking up the outer most fork and knife and began to cut and eat.

He forced himself to eat in small bites, his eyes occasionally darting around to emulate what the others were doing. He noticed that Liz had begun to engage the King and his son in small talk with Ed occasionally joining in. Finally, he decided that he had finished at least a third of the plate and put his fork and knife on the plate to signal that he was done.

Servants immediately whisked the plate away and put the next course in front of him and Matt took the outer most spoon, one that looked like a circle, and started to sip his soup. He was extra careful not to make slurping sounds as he had tended to do when he was eating with Sam, Fred, and Phil in Columbia’s dining hall. It was a painstaking task, at least in his opinion, and he was beginning to hate how the rich ate. There was so much food wasted that could have fed the hungry in the Black City…

As he stopped a third of a way through his soup, the meal was taken away and the next course given to him. Matt was so concentrated on eating that he didn’t notice almost anything around him until a sharp jab to the ribs by Ed made him look up and spill some of the gravy that drizzled over his pork slivers.

“Wha? What?” he asked, staring around before Ed indicated that King Theod had asked him a question. “Oh, um, I apologize your Highness, but can you repeat your question?” He flushed a bit in embarrassment as Theod raised an eyebrow but smiled nonetheless.

“I asked, Master Biggs, what in your position of General Ruthersfield’s lieutenant do you do?”

“Oh, um,” Matt racked his brain trying to come up with a good excuse and said the first thing that came out of his mouth, “I am his undercover agent at Columbia University in the Black City. I am currently a student there, but I watch the students and various citizens of the Black City for an indication of trouble. If there are, and the NYPD cannot handle it, I report this to the General. My position is delicate because of the mage gangs and so I must keep quiet.”

If there was one thing that Matt had be proud of through all of his reincarnations was the fact that he was able to spin a feasible story on anything. He saw Ed suppressing a smile while Liz stared at him like he had grown another head and Theodred just blinking at him. However, the expression King Theod’s face was priceless…

“You have an interesting lieutenant, General,” Theod turned his attention back to Ed.

“His capacity in the Black City helps a lot with the patrol of the Northeastern region of the United States, Milord,” Ed replied as Matt turned back to his dinner.

“I’ll be sure not to pass on word of your Lieutenant’s position,” King Theod said.

“Thank you, Milord,” Ed replied as Matt drowned out the rest of the conversation, but now kept his eyes out for anything unusual.

As the dinner progressed, Matt found himself tasting new and exotic foods all the while getting fuller and fuller by each plate that had been placed in front of him, but even so, he had begun to realize that he was eating a lot more than any of the other guests. Advantages of being a former Hobbit, he guessed as he scooped up a part of a Tiramisu and at it, feeling the warm liqueur slide down his throat. He also realized that King Theod had been staring at Liz a lot during the dinner, as if he couldn’t place something about her…

He was about to take another bite of the Tiramisu when Theod’s words made him stare at the King.

“Eowyn…” King Theod started and the whole table suddenly felt silent.

Matt stared at Liz who was staring at King Theod. His gaze went from Liz back to Theod like a ping-pong ball.

“I know you…Eowyn…” King Theod’s voice had changed to a soft ruddy type that was filled with warmth and Matt could feel a grin spreading across his face. He saw Liz do the same while Ed was already smiling.

“Uncle!” she cried just as the whole table cheered for the return of their long lost king.

Matt started to laugh as he saw Liz fly from her seat and embrace her Reincarnated Uncle, dessert forgotten.

“Eowyn, Eowyn, Eowyn…it has been too long…” he whispered, voice barely audible among the rest of the table as the people sitting there burst into murmurs and were chatting with each other, tension broken.

“I know, Uncle, but I am here…” Liz replied and Matt felt tears prick to the corners of his eyes. He wiped at them as both released their embrace and Liz sat back down in her seat.

“Eomer…” Theod shook the hand of Ed who was smiling broadly before the King turned his gaze on him and Matt felt a flutter of anticipation. “Meriadoc Brandybuck…my faithful squire…”

“An honor to serve again, my liege,” Matt felt like something had taken over his body as he stepped away from his seat and bowed deeply, “I have not forgotten my oath to you and now I will be able to fulfill it again.”

King Theod nodded before turning to look at both Liz and Ed. “The Elves will have the Parisian Army as their allies. We will go to war.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a messy chapter. I apologize for not updating this all summer, but I had my summer project that was occupying my time. Hope you enjoyed it!


	34. Rohirrim

The next day found Matt standing in front of a more informal court of King Theod I. He was amazed at how relaxed the King was when just twenty-four hours ago, the King had such a rigid show of royalty and whatnot. Gone were most of the court members, some of them rounding up the troops from all over the Parisian land, others loading up equipment to go to war.

Though it was still a court, there was a more relaxed atmosphere to it, and both King Theod, Theodred, and Ed were standing over a table with a 3D projection of Europe over it. Holographic pieces were placed on various parts to represent armies, ships, and cities. Matt found it interesting and walked over, Liz following behind him. She was dressed more casually and opted for slacks instead of a dress. Her hair was tied back up into a tight bun.

“Elrond has sent his second, Glorfindel, to rendezvous with Cirdan to launch an assault on London. That was a few days ago. They should be done by now if they were successful. Faramir and Boromir have gone back to the Black City to convince their father to send the National Guard, an offshoot of the armies of Gondor. From the White City, Aragorn is leading both an Elvish and human army to take over Therin’s Hill,” Ed explained pointing out what he had been told by Celeborn a few days prior to their departure of the White City.

“Therin’s Hill? Is he insane?!” Theodred exploded, “that’s suicide! Therin’s Hill has never had a successful assault on it since the early Twentieth Century. Even the Nano War it was just bloodshed all over!”

“The Elves are backing him up this time,” Ed pitted his Reincarnated cousin with a stare, “the strategy is to hit them all in succession. Galadriel and Celeborn are coordinating everything from the White City.”

“Then what do they want the Parisian Army to do? What are the Rohirrim for?” Theod asked a frown on his face as he stared at the map.

“Sir!” an aide suddenly burst into the court, running up them out of breath.

“What is it?” Matt saw that it was one of Ed’s subordinates who skidded to a stop and paused a bit to catch his breath before speaking in a hurried voice.

“London has been taken over. Cirdan and Glorfindel have been successful in their assault. They’re now awaiting results from Paris. They plan to strike at Amsterdam and Rotterdam next,” the aide said before gulping down a few more breaths.

“We join with Glorfindel and Cirdan to take over the two cities. Apparently they think there seems to be much of Morgoth’s forces there and if we do not hit them there, then our assault on the Shadow Horror City,” Ed pointed to a city farther north than Therin’s Hill and Amsterdam, “will not be successful.”

“It is settled then. I will send what men I have,” Theod decided prodding a few of the major pieces around. “Terrance will be the commander of the forces. I know they are Rohirrim and will follow you Eomer, but they were long under the command of my son before you,” he said in a grave voice and Ed nodded. If Matt could see any hints of anger at being pushed to being a second-in-command, he found none.

“I understand. Troops tend to follow their own leaders before rising to the authority of a foreign one,” Ed replied respectfully, “how long before the men are ready?”

“They are ready to leave in a few hours,” Theodred replied.

“Then it is settled. We march on Rotterdam and Amsterdam,” Theoden had the final word and gestured to a servant who immediately came forward, “send a message to the Elvish fleet and to the White City. We will be coordinating efforts to reach the twin cities at the same time.”

“Milord,” the servant bowed before hurrying off.

“I left a few things in my room before we’re leaving. I’ll be back,” Liz spoke up and Matt suddenly remembered that he had also left a few things in his room.

“Liz, can you grab my things too?” Matt didn’t want to leave the room yet. He found the battle map quite fascinating, more so because it was different from Elvish technology, and just as effective. Plus he wanted a chance to prod the pieces like King Theod did. They looked almost life-like…

“Sure,” Liz replied as she walked towards the door and disappeared behind it.

“Um, King Theod…may I…um…look at the map?” Matt asked a bit hesitantly.

“Go ahead my boy,” Theod smiled at him as both Theodred and Ed were pouring over a section of the map on the other end of the table. “Here, I’ll teach you how to work the pieces…”

* * *

Though it was only the second day since they were here, Liz already knew her way around the keep. It was an innate reaction from her police training, know the grounds you walk on. She knew that it took a few floors above to get to the platform where their hovercopter was and a few floors down was the dungeons where the food stores and secret passage ways were.

As she reached her room, she briefly wondered how Frank was doing in the Black City. They had received no word so far on the progress and based on what Liz knew, David Greens was a hard man to convince – especially in light of the fact that he was essentially, Denethor son of Ecthelion Reincarnated. She had never really knew David Greens personally, but she had met him twice. Once when Frank took her to his house to introduce her to his father, the other time when he had brought her to his home to tell his father that they were engaged.

Both times she had been scared of David Greens, and was quite relieved when Frank had suggested they get an apartment of their own to live together before marrying. There still wasn’t a set date, but they had gotten engaged because of the high mortality rate NYPD officers usually faced and many times they needed comfort from each other just to deal with all of the high and dark violent crimes that rampaged across the Black City.

She hoped he was safe…

Opening the door, she stepped into her room and found what she had left there. She gathered her things up and headed for the door when she suddenly heard a sound behind her and whirled around, gun drawn from the folds of the pile in her hands. The pile of clothes and a few other things dropped to the ground with a thunk as she scanned the room, her eyes narrowed, looking for anything out of the ordinary.

Her senses were on full alert as she slowly backed out of the room. She suddenly turned to her right and pointed the gun straight at a cowering man whose once handsome face now wasted had such a scared expression plastered on it.

“P-Please…d-don’t shoot,” the man stuttered and Liz tilted her head, staring at the man. He looked so familiar…then it suddenly hit her who the man was.

“Grima Wormtongue…” she whispered as she lowered her gun slightly, the detective part of her still wary, but the Eowyn part of her feeling pity.

“Please…d-don’t s-shoot. I mean no harm, no harm,” he whispered as he raised his arms up, still cowering. “I…” he shuffled a bit closer, “I…just wanted to see you, milady…”

“What are you doing here, you filth,” Liz couldn’t keep the anger out of her voice as she stepped back as the man shuffled forward some more.

“P-Please…I mean you no harm….I…just wanted to apologize. I’m sorry…” Wormtongue’s current incarnation was pathetic. The shadow of a man who was once so manipulative, now reduced to a quivering mess, but Liz felt no pity and quashed that part of Eowyn that did.

“Sorry for what?” she snapped at him, making him quake even further, “Sorry that you tried to seduce me? Sorry that you betrayed my family and turned my Uncle into one of Saruman’s puppets? Sorry that you nearly destroyed the whole world because you believed that Saruman was some kind of god? Well here’s news buddy, Saruman isn’t some freaking god! He’s just human! And we won! What the hell do you have to be sorry for you piece of shit!”

By now her grip on her gun was so tight that it was white knuckled and she inwardly congratulated herself on her restraint on not shooting Grima in the head right then and there.

“I know…” the man whispered, broken, “I was wrong…but I apologize for betraying you, Milady d’Arc-“

The name cut right through Eowyn and her eyes widened in surprise. Memories of her as Jeanne d’Arc, the Maiden of Lorraine suddenly poured into her, ironic because she was in Paris, but also as the memories assaulted her, she realized that when she was the Maiden, she had been betrayed by one of her own men…and than man was the one standing in front of her at the moment, different incarnation, but the same man nonetheless.

When she spoke, it wasn’t her normal voice, it was more ragged, deeper, a soldier’s voice, the voice of a woman from the small peasant town with no real formal education, only the education of the Church. It was that of one of her former incarnations…Jeanne d’Arc…

“You were the filth that betrayed my people and me! You were the one who sold me out to the English! You conspired against me, against your general, your savior…for a little gold? My men died! We could have won battles, but no, you had to tell them that I was seeing things…I was talking with the Devil-oh-yes-you-had-to,” Liz wrestled with the memory of d’Arc and finally was able to quash it down. She was surprised that something like this had happened and was worried, but the worry was for naught as she saw that Grima was now crying and an odd sense of forgiveness filled her that pissed off the d’Arc part of her, but Liz mentally told that part to shut up.

“I…” she tested out of her own voice and was relieved to find that it was her own voice, not the Jeanne d’Arc voice, “I forgive you…” she said, realizing just how long the man had tortured himself through all of his incarnations to tell her that he was sorry and probably longer to hear words of forgiveness. It was a long time since the Maiden of Lorraine had been burned at the stake.

Now that she thought about it, she realized that her brother had been incarnated as La Hire, the general of the French army…and Faramir had been her companion and servant Jean Aulon… Even Merry had been a faithful soldier under her command… Almost all of the Rohirrim were part of her army and they had followed her. It was a scary thought, but Liz put that aside to stew on it later.

“M-Milady?” Grima stared up at her with tear filled eyes before he crumpled into a ball and wailed. Liz barely heard the thank you that was coming from his mouth before he looked up at her and started to stand up.

“Hold it right there,” a new voice made him freeze and Liz who had not been paying attention to her surroundings was surprised to see Frank standing right behind Grima who was half crouched on the floor. He was holding a gun to the quivering man’s head. “Don’t even think about moving,” Frank said in a cold voice.

“Frank,” Liz started before he stared at her and she was surprised to see the cold fury on his face.

“This worm is nothing, Elizabeth,” there was something different about Frank’s voice and it took a moment for her to realize that his personality as Jean Aulon had taken over. He had to have heard their conversation…but to hear her name spoken…it was so confusing.

“Frank…” she said in a more soothing tone, trying to bring back her fiancé.

There was a sudden cry from Grima before the sound of a gun shot going off and Liz shielded her eyes, giving a short scream before silence once again ruled the hall way. When she opened her eyes, she saw Grima, lying on the ground a pool of crimson blood spreading on the floor, getting wider by the minute.

She rushed over to the fallen man and propped his head up on her lap. Tears began to fall on their own accord from her eyes as Grima struggled to say some more things, but his words were lost in the pink spittle that bubbled from his mouth.

“No…no,” she whispered as she saw his eyes close and his body went limp in her arms. “No…” she didn’t try to stop the tears but instead stared up at Frank, glaring at him in anger.

“Why?!” she shouted at him, barely hearing the footsteps of others coming into the hall, or the fact that it was her brother, Theodred, Matt, Ben, King Theod and a few guards that came their way. “Why Frank?! What the hell did he do to you?! He was to be forgiven! Not to be murdered!” she screamed at him.

“I-I…” Frank stuttered, shock spreading across his face as he stumbled back, the gun dropping from his hands. “He-…betrayed-“

“I know you were angry!” this time, she felt the personality of Jeanne merging with her own, but the dominant emotion was that of sorrow and anger, both directed at her fiancé and Reincarnated lover, “He was to be forgiven! I know you vowed to kill whoever betrayed me! But I forgave him! I understood his cause!

“You killed him! You. Killed. Him.”

* * *

Hours later, the Parisian Army set out for Rotterdam, supplies and equipment all packed up into tanks and trucks. The robotic horsemen of the Rohirrim were already escorting the army, but in the main heart of the forces where the command staff was residing, it was all quiet, with barely a word spoken to each other.

Frank and Ben had joined the Parisian Army, having their orders sent by both Elrond and Galadriel, but things were frosty between Frank and Liz and it made for the command vehicle an uncomfortable place. Many with the exception of Ben, were previously Reincarnated to follow Jeanne d’Arc so they understood what was happening between the two former lovers of that age.

King Theod had wished them a safe journey and victorious battles and said that he would aid Galadriel and Celeborn by cooperating with them on coordinating the Parisian Army’s efforts.

As the army set out, high above them, in the clouds of the Gods, both Eru and Aru sat, staring down at the chess board they were playing on.

The black and white pieces moved of their own accord, but each being had the ability to prod their own pieces to their own devices and Eru smiled wickedly at his evil counterpart. “It seems, I have the upper hand,” he said in a quiet voice.

“For now, Eru. For now,” Aru’s reply was short and to the point. Both beings continued to stare at the pieces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next few chapters will be regressing back to Cirdan and Glorfindel. This is the last of the Author’s Notes for a few chapters. Jeanne d’Arc legend is based on “The Messenger” and “Joan of Arc (TV mini).”


	35. Cirdan & Glorfindel

“What’s the status of Saruman’s movement among the island?” Glorfindel asked as he stepped into the makeshift situation room in the city of Dublin only recently and easily taken over by the combined forces of Elrond’s Golden City Elves and Cirdan’s forces.

“Scouts say that there’s barely any movement, but it’s a good guess to say that Saruman knows we are coming,” Rinaran, his second-in-command said as she stared at some of the maps, a frown on her ageless face. “We’ve been getting conflicting reports that he’s using Zenith Technologies to create more Dust and use Mage-Link to create himself a human army.” She handed him a plastic looking sheet that was written in Elvish without looking at him, “There’s also the mention that he has an army of Balrogs at his disposal.”

Glorfindel hissed softly as he stared at what he was given. He really hated Balrogs…there was something about them that made him uneasy. Though he was willing to fight of any magical creatures, Balrogs were on the top of his list of most-hated-magical-creatures. He didn’t know why he had such an animosity to them, after all, they were nearly all long dead, remnants of Morgoth’s forces, and he had been born after they were nearly all wiped from the face of Middle Earth.

“Give me Chimeras any day,” he muttered mostly to himself as he crumpled up the paper and threw it in a trash can before going over to where his second-in-command was. “Any other forces that are need to know?” he asked just as Cirdan came in.

Technically, the two of them were both co-commanders of the mission, but in terms of experience, Cirdan outranked him. One of the first Teleri Elves, he was as powerful as any of Eldar status and Glorfindel had heard rumors that he was connected to Osse and Uinen, minor Valars under the great sea Vala Ulmo.

“Osse and Uinen decided to act alone. They will help us on our assault on London,” Cirdan said in a calming voice and Glorfindel raised an eyebrow.

He had never heard of any of the Valar breaking from the council to help anyone, but then again, that was what Melian did, so he guessed he shouldn’t be too surprised. But based on what Lorien, Nienna, and Vaire had said, they shouldn’t really expect any help at all. He believed like his Lord Elrond did, that the Valar were very manipulative…but to what extent he didn’t know. They had let this world rot and die for such a long time, what was to prevent them from letting it rot some more here in this age?

“That’s news,” Rinaran looked a bit shocked, “aren’t they going to face retaliation from Manwe?”

“I should be able to talk to Ulmo after this is all over,” Cirdan replied, “their help would be a great asset to the fleet.”

“What’s the status of Rotterdam’s forces?” Glorfindel asked, staring at the map of the former United Kingdom and the western part of Europe. Elrond had told him that in a few days the Reincarnated souls of Eowyn, Eomer, and Merry were going to Paris to try to convince King Theod, Theoden Reincarnated, to send the Parisian Army. He hoped they were successful as he and Cirdan decided that after London, they were launching an assault on the first of Morgoth’s strongholds, the twin cities of Rotterdam and Amsterdam.

“No sea forces. Morgoth seems to be using it as a base of land operations to set his eyes on Paris. The only sea forces he has are in Copenhagen to protect the Shadow Horror City from any attack,” Rinaran replied, pointing out a few dots on a flat screened map they had. Even though they could have used the latest in mapping technology both Cirdan and Glorfindel preferred flat maps – archaic, but they were effective.

“Good,” Cirdan said before pursing his lips and then he pointed to London before his finger drew an imaginary outline of a path, “we should go through the channel. My realm has been on good terms with King Theod’s forces we should have safe passage through the former English Channel. To go from Liverpool and do a land assault would wear down our forces. We’ll hit it by making Southend-on-Sea our main landing area.”

“That’s the way he’ll be expecting us,” Glorfindel pointed out, wondering what his fellow comrade was getting at.

“I know,” the Teleri replied and he thought he caught a glint in his eyes, but wasn’t too sure.

“There are cliff walls, Cirdan, we won’t have a strong foothold,” Rinaran also pointed out.

“We want to draw out his forces. Then you, Rinaran, will be leading the air assault to destroy the rest of Saruman’s forces in London,” Cirdan explained and Glorfindel finally got what he was saying.

“”You have submarines, don’t you?” he had suspected that the Shipwright always had submarines, a rare thing in the world considering that the technology was all but obsolete.

“Lord Elrond had always suspected, but I have never let on,” Cirdan grinned, acting a lot younger than what his real age was. Glorfindel had a feeling that Cirdan was enjoying himself too much…especially in light that he was able to make good use of his fleet of ships that were one of the most powerful in the world.

“Submarines up the River Thames…clever,” Rinaran smirked, “while we hit Saruman in the air, he won’t suspect an attack coming from the river.”

“Right. Since it’s been dug deeper century by century, age by age, submarines would be able to slip right past,” Cirdan replied, “though my lieutenant is in charge of the submarines, both you and him would have to hit London fast. Otherwise, we would be overrun by Saruman’s forces in Southend-on-Sea.”

“By what initial reports we’ve gathered, there will probably be numerous magical creatures, Balrogs included,” Rinaran said and Glorfindel frowned while Cirdan just nodded, “there is also reports indicating Shadow Elves are there.”

That got both of their attention and he saw the Teleri stiffen a bit before nodding curtly for Rinaran to continue.

“There’s also the possibility that the Witch King or any of the Nazgul that might be there,” Rinaran was giving him an odd look while Cirdan was also staring at him and Glorfindel wondered why.

“What?” he asked, curious, “do I have something growing on me?” He mentally shook his head as he realized he had been spending too much time around humans, picking up their languages and sarcastic format for speaking.

“General, I mean no disrespect, but have you noticed that every time a Nazgul has shown up in the recent battles, you change,” Rinaran said and he stared at her, puzzled.

“Change? How?”

“You fight with more power than you’ve displayed in the last few Ages, Glorfindel. It’s not your magical power that’s increased, but your knowledge and strength that’s increased also,” the Shipwright said in a quiet tone and Glorfindel felt a trickle of worry run down his spine.

He fuzzily remembered his battles, which he knew was odd for him as he had almost perfect photographic memory, but if what his second and Cirdan were saying was true…could he be possessed and used by Morgoth? Was he actually coming close to injuring his friends in battle? Was it similar to what Legolas had been experiencing when he took Sauron’s soul into his own being? Except, perhaps worst? After all, Sauron was dead and now it was only Morgoth…and Morgoth’s servants were the Nazgul. Could they have casted a spell on him without his knowledge?

There were possibilities, but he shook his head in response to their questions. “I don’t…remember,” he answered half-truthfully. He saw the two of them glance at each other before staring at him. “What? It’s bad?”

“No…no,” Rinaran said in a soothing voice, “it’s just that…well…General, I know you’ve rarely read Human literature, but have you even considered the fact that you were the original Glorfindel who was Turgon’s third in command?”

“No,” Glorfindel replied, “he died fighting Balrogs. I detest Balrogs. There is no way the two of us are connected. My father told me I was named in honor of him.”

“Who was your father?”

The golden haired Eldar stared at Cirdan then at Rinaran before he realized that he had no memory of his father. He couldn’t conjure up any image…he didn’t know the name of his father…he… No fuzzy memories, nothing.

“I…don’t…remember,” he answered truthfully.

* * *

The battle plan had been set out and all of the ships moved under the cover of darkness. Rinaran sat snugly in the cockpit of her fighter jet, the latest in technological advances Elves had made to improve upon the humans’ weapons. She checked her controls, noting the flight path of the wing she commanded. Though she was ultimately in command of her own squadron of twelve fighters, she was also a wing commander and therefore had to delegate her attention.

“Obsidian Wing, this is Leader. Check status of your squadrons and report in,” she clicked on the broadcast frequency throughout her wing. Clicks of acknowledgement came back to her before she switched back to her own flight’s frequency. “Call ‘em Hawk Squadron,” she said over the comm. and the eleven other fighters in her squadron replied over promptly, each one of them sounding confident in their abilities.

“Diablo Flight reports all green,” the leader of Diablo Flight reported and Rinaran grinned. Tamir was one of her best pilots she had personally trained and had the nickname of El Diablo during his raids back in the skies of World War II, even though that went to a human who was equally as good as he was, but he had named his flight Diablo just to suit his own ego.

“Katana Flight all ready to go,” the leader of Katana Flight was one of the few Swordmaidens in existence as far as Rinaran knew. And she had never seen Katana Leader’s face. It was always kept in a shawl or mask whenever she was in public and though that made her worried at times, she knew that Lord Elrond and Glorfindel trusted the leader of Katana Flight and was inclined to follow too even though she had her suspicions.

“Daisy Flight is ready to pick at a few minions!” the cheerful voice of Daisy Leader almost spoiled Rinaran’s mood as she sighed and shook her head. The leader of Daisy Flight was the insufferable Seileth a Fifth Age elf who fancied himself to be the next Elladan and Elrohir. A brilliant pilot and charismatic leader, but nonetheless, an insufferable prankster. Of all the names, he could have chosen for his Flight…

“Roger Flights. ETA is about 10 minutes. Light up your weapons and stick close to the patterns we’ve set. Stay in contact at all times. If you go down and are surrounded by enemy forces, signal for help. Do not try taking on Saruman’s forces without aid.”

Rinaran paused in the middle of her directions and took a deep breath as she saw the glittering lights of London come into a view. A cloud of darkness and rain along with flashes of lightning flashed all around her cockpit, illuminating the rest of her squadron in a brief moment of ghostly darkness, when all became silent again save for the thundering of water down upon their fighters.

“Whatever happens, we will win. Whatever happens, Morgoth must not have another ally,” she said in a quiet but firm voice over the comm., knowing that her Flight was preparing for the runs while listening to her. “Whatever happens, we will win.”

She shut off her comm. and switched to the synchronized count down clock that matched the submarines down in the River Thames, commanded by Itherir, one of Erestor’s sons who had been living in Cirdan’s realm. She knew that the rest of her flight would do the same as it was in the plan that they would launch a combo attack on London. Obsidian Flight would hit Saruman’s buildings and the Big Ben which had been grossly malformed and turned into a dark form of Barad-dur while the submarines would attack the land troops.

The numbers counted down and as soon as they hit zero, Rinaran activated her comm. once more, “Katana and Diablo, break formation and hit them with everything you got! Daisy, pass through the Big Ben!”

She turned the frequency to her squadron, “Let’s give ‘em hell boys and girls.”

A whoop of joy resounded over the comm. before she pulled on her stick and banked her fighter through the clouds and into the blackness of the Grey City. She set up targeting spells everywhere, pinpointing various magical creatures both in the air and on the ground. Thumbing the missile launch button on her stick she launched a series of missiles, and grinned as they impacted her targets. Looping through the claws of a black dragon she banked around and did a quick scan of the rest of her wing and squadron.

So far they were doing all right and she keyed her comm. to her wingman. “Hawk Two you still with me?”

“Roger, Hawk Lead,” her wingman replied, his voice grim as usual.

“Skim the Thames and hit the fiends down there. We need to give the subs some breathing room,” she had originally wanted to help Daisy Squadron pass by Big Ben, but a magic flare from the river told her that there were enemy who were trying to make passes at the submarines down in the bottom of the River Thames who were trying to take them out.

“Roger,” the two of them tipped their wings at the same time and dived down towards the dark, blackened river. All around them were flares of buildings going up in flames, magic hurled at them, and the occasional barrage of missiles that were launched from the hidden submarines in the river. It was tricky maneuvering, but Rinaran had full confidence in her abilities and that of her wingmate.

She barrel rolled her way past a rising nuclear missile coming out of the water before she Techno-fused her magic on her fighter’s gun barrels and pelted the fiends hanging on the side of the walls and under the bridges with sharp icicles. By her tail, her wingmate was firing a mix of electric bullets and fire bullets, taking down the fiends she hadn’t with her icicles.

They continued down the River Thames, taking out as many fiends as possible and overhead, the rest of her flight continued to battle in the skies and on the ground. She could hear some of the screams of her pilots as a few lost their lives, but she didn’t let it bother her as many died in wars – she was used to that already. She would mourn them later…

“Commander!” her comm. suddenly burst with the voice of Daisy Leader Seilith, “we’ve breached the Big Ben, but there doesn’t seem to be any sign of Saruman the Black!”

“What?” Rinaran pulled up on her stick, pulling away from her Thames trench run and flew towards the Big Ben that was looming ahead of her, dodging and firing at a few of the enemy forces that got in her way.

“Saruman’s not there!” Seilith sounded worried, something the Fifth Age elf almost never displayed.

She cursed underneath her breath. She knew the wizard had liked to stay in his place of power and rarely came out to campaign his forces…but if he wasn’t there…they didn’t have the capacity to land and search the area – that was what Glorfindel and Cirdan’s forces were for…and plus the place was still too hostile. She was suddenly dragged out of her thoughts as a horrible screech filled the air and the oppressive feeling of darkness clawed at the edge of her mind. The Nazgul…they were here!

“Shit,” she swore before she pulled hard on her stick to avoid the claws of the dark green dragon of the Nazgul that was trying to swipe at her. However, her wingman wasn’t as lucky and his scream filled her comm. before it was abruptly cut off – just as a fireball flared up behind her. She turned slightly as she was banking around to see the magical swirl of her former wingman shoot towards the lone Nazgul that was hovering in the air near the Big Ben.

Suddenly another presence filled her mind – it was something familiar yet it was tainted with pure evil that dripped like blood. The Shadow Elves… As she took a quick look at the gaping hole that Daisy Squadron had blew into the twisted Barad-dur she noticed the moving forms of at least a hundred red glowing eyes, elongated faces with sharp knife-like teeth and very long pointed ears.

It was a trap and they fell for it.

Saruman was never here…and she realized where the Black wizard had gone…to attack the diversionary forces on Southend-on-Sea. The enemy had realized their plan and had prepared accordingly. Her comm. suddenly crackled.

“Commander Rinaran, this is Captain Tirilas. They’ve got the Thames bottled up pretty well. We can’t retreat back to Southend-on-Sea,” the head of the submarine task force said, the noise full of hissing and static.

“Yeah, we know,” Rinaran replied back as she concentrated on new targets and fired a volley of missiles at them, all the while watching the Nazgul take down some of her wing. She knew that the Nazgul was picking off each of her pilots with deliberate precision, probably leaving her for last as it must have recognize that she was the wing commander. The Shadow Elves were also assisting by producing wave after wave of fiends and other dark creatures that took to the sky. “Shadow Elves are up here…it’s a walking death trap. What do you propose?” she could sense that the commander of the subs wanted to do something.

“Some of my submarines will rise and distract them for you. Blow the barriers that the Shadow Elves set up with their summons and retreat back to Southend-on-Sea,” Tirilas said in a grim voice.

Rinaran raised an eyebrow, “You know you’re going to die, right Captain?”

“Someone has to get us out of here,” Tirilas replied in an indifferent manner, “Don’t worry about us Commander. We’ll give them hell before we see the light.”

“Roger that,” Rinaran smiled faintly even though she knew that the submarine captain couldn’t see her face, “May your sea battles be won with the fury of Ulmo.” That was the proper way of addressing a farewell to one of Cirdan’s realm, a Teleri.

“And a good spring from your bow,” Tirilas replied in the proper Swordmaiden terms.

She immediately cut the connection and keyed her comm. to her wing’s frequency, “All squadrons listen up. We’re going to hit the barrier of creatures holding back the submarines. Don’t worry anything else, just punch the barrier and mark your heading towards Southend-on-Sea – we’re getting out of this trap.”

A variety of acknowledgements came over her comm. and Rinaran steadied herself for Tirilas’ move. She hoped that the rest of the taskforce was all right…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lack of updates, it was because of my hectic first semester of sophomore year that got to me. I had so much to do and little time to write fics. But now I have time and RotK to watch, I’m happy as a clam!


	36. Assault

Cirdan stood grimly in the command center of his own flagship the _Toriath_. It was one of the most advance warships ever in existence yet it looked very much like the ships of the Second and Third Ages. He knew that the lands that were part of Morgoth’s realm barred any technology save those that were created before the Fourth Age, and the only way they would be able to launch a successful attack with their modern weapons was by sea. That was why the forces that were launched from the White City had real horses and foot soldiers, mixed in with a few rocket propelled missiles that were able to be carried by hand. However, if they touched the grounds that were Morgoth’s realm then they would immediately turn to dust…

He knew that the crucial success of taking over London and defeating Saruman’s forces would be advantageous as Saruman would have spread from the island to the mainland and then cover a majority of the lands between his realm and the White City with Morgoth’s touch – thereby rendering trade with the neutral nations and travel all but obsolete.

But it wasn’t just for trade or travel did he fight – it was because the touch of evil that was Morgoth was more than a touch, it was a plague that needed to be cut out of the Earth and the Heavens above. How Morgoth returned was beyond him, but he had a few speculations himself. He knew of the scheming games the Valar played and while he agreed with Galadriel’s conclusions that the Valar were very manipulative, he believed they were doing so for other reasons then what Galadriel believed. Galadriel believed that the Valar loved playing their mind-games and loved being under the control of Eru the greatest being of all.

However, Cirdan believed that this was different. There was no love or hate between the Creator and his Gods…there was just a rivalry. It was all one big game – and just a simple rivalry that involved all of them and the fate of this Earth. Yes the Valar were manipulative, but not all were their enemies – yet not all were their allies either. It was a fine line that each of them was playing and Cirdan knew that the stakes were high. He had discussed it with the four other members of Lorien Incorporated and they had come to the conclusion that Gandalf needed to be with the Valar to try to convince them that they needed allies in order to overthrown Morgoth – and he had suggested that the Maia take the reincarnated Hobbits Frodo and Sam with him…they had innate powers in them that would be useful in confronting the pig-headed Valar about their grievous mistakes and the stupid game they were playing.

“My Lord, we’re getting conflicting reports from the task force sent to London,” one of his lieutenants suddenly spoke up, drawing his attention away from his thoughts and back to the battle at hand. He could see in the distance on the cliffs of Southend-on-Sea Glorfindel and his army marching upon the enemy that was there to meet them, the flare of bright magic filling the stormy skies.

“What do they say?” he asked.

“Saruman is not within Barad-dur and that he has barred the task force in,” the lieutenant replied, “but Lord Glorfindel’s army doesn’t report seeing Saruman anywhere on the battlefield.”

“Odd,” Cirdan narrowed his eyes, thinking. He was about to say more when the lieutenant spoke up again, this time his voice was laced with fear.

“Milord! Shadow Elves on the move! There’s at least of seventy-five and more on the land,” the Elf sounded panicky before Navigation burst in.

“Milord, five submarines converging on our position. Detecting Irimage magic within them. I believe their either human Irimages or Shadow Elves,” the Elf said in a calm, but hurried voice.

“Signal the carriers to fall back behind the destroyers. Give me a targeting solution on the leader,” he barked, falling instantly into his battle mode. He rarely used magic for his land battles, preferring to command from the sea, but he wasn’t weak as many had thought him to be. He had his fair share of land battles and even sea battles with his powers growing steadily. After all, he was Teleri…

“Osse, Uinen,” he called out, knowing that the two Maiar could hear him even if he didn’t use the comm. with them.

“Uinen is shoring up the defenses at the sea,” Osse replied to his summons, appearing next to him in a splash of water that came out of nowhere. However, the water didn’t drench anything and instead disappeared just as quickly, leaving the Maia dressed in blue and white hued robes that looked a lot like the ocean and whitecaps.

“Torpedoes detected! It’s hot!” Sonar suddenly reported.

“Aide the carriers please Osse. We’ll deal with these,” Cirdan asked and the Maia nodded once before disappearing with a splash of water magic.

“Target the first torpedo and launch countermeasures. I want multiple firing solutions for the others,” he said in a calm voice.

“Targeting,” came the multiple replies of his command center.

“Central target acquired, launching countermeasures,” one of the Elves sitting at the firing control center said before the whoosh of countermeasures being launched from the tubes of the ship in the water was heard.

“Cannons, give me the solution of torpedoes five and six.”

“Roger, bearing two-two-six and two-two-three,” one of the Elves replied.

“Fire cannons at two-two-four and two-two-five. Now and now,” Cirdan glanced down at the real-time map that showed the multiple torpedoes that were headed towards his ships. The resounding boom from the cannons shook the ship, but he didn’t mind. He watched as he saw little green arrows come from his ship towards the red that were the incoming torpedoes and they impacted in the areas he indicated. Suddenly torpedo five and six weren’t aiming at them anymore and instead were diverted off to the other destroyers who promptly blew them to pieces with their own countermeasures.

He saw two little green ships headed towards where five giant mass of red were – they were his sub-destroyers, decked out in almost every spell, and depth charging the area to make the subs rise to the surface in range of his guns and the carriers’ jets that were waiting in the back.

He checked the land forces’ progress and noted with a small amount of satisfaction that the Shadow Elves that had come upon the scene, marked in a different color had not gotten past Glorfindel’s armies…which meant that they weren’t able to summon creatures to battle his ships. If there was one thing that annoyed him was that the enemy’s summons were always winged creatures against his ships that made it very hard to target – especially if there was a smart mage in there to summon small birds to make a flock of them do a suicide run at a ship.

“Problem with the London approach,” Osse suddenly appeared next to him, “it was a trap…” the Maia’s eyes took on a faraway look and Cirdan realized that he was using a far distance seeing spell, “Shadow Elves…on the Big Ben…your submarines are trapped by them…Obsidian Wing is trapped too…”

Cirdan frowned…he liked his submarines. They were his own creations and though he briefly wondered where the enemy had gotten submarines as he had thought he was the only one with them, he knew that he should have realized that this was Morgoth they were dealing with – Morgoth was very resourceful…

The Maia suddenly disappeared back to the carriers to help them defend themselves, leaving Cirdan alone. If Shadow Elves were inside the Big Ben that meant that Saruman knew they were coming and had planned a trap for them. He cursed softly to himself before he turned to his sonar, “Status of enemy subs?”

“Four remaining. Two have been eliminated by the _Grithinan_ and _Sindar_. However, we lost the _Othonum_ ,” his senior sonar Elf replied.

That meant that they still couldn’t move without risking their exposed side to the enemy. Cirdan wanted to go up the Thames to destroy the barrier, but he couldn’t right now…which meant that he was going to lose more of his fleet…and those under his command.

“Give me firing solutions on subs one and two. I want them blasted to pieces,” he hoped that his second-in-command Tirilas would be able to get the task force out. Unconsciously he clenched a fist in anger as the battle continued outside.

* * *

Glorfindel raised his arm and called forth a spray of water that blew back a group of orcs that were trying to attack him. The water shredded the orcs into pieces and black blood mingled with the water as he turned around and _Raithen_ flared in his hand. He cut down an Irimage that had summoned a panther to attack him and immediately the panther fell down dead, a few inches away from him.

He could sense something was terribly wrong when the forces that came after them during the beginning of the battle were more numerous then they had expected. So far there were no Shadow Elves or the Nazgul, but he had a feeling within him that these orcs and various mages were just the beginning. He could feel the magic power swirling around him, drawing upon the magic that was once in his reserves, but now overfilling with all of the mages he was killing. He had long abandoned the concept of modernized weapons, preferring his sword _Raithen_.

Stabbing an orc through the head, he whirled around and decapitated a Technomage that was creeping up on him before lifting his hand up high and a maelstrom of lightning spewed from his finger tips, electrocuting those around him. They all fell, blackened and smoke rising from their crisp bodies.

He walked forward, _Raithen_ swinging back and forth as he cut a swath of destruction. Concentrating on a spell in his mind, he suddenly stopped and held up two fingers near his forehead. He briefly closed his eyes, sensing his opponents around him – Irimages and orcs, and suddenly snapped open his eyes, feeling the power that he had only touched briefly in the battles he had fought in the Golden City surge through him. Letting loose that power, he raised _Raithen_ up and set forth a huge Fire Circle that blew back his enemies.

However, those around him were immediately burnt to cinders and ashes, the fire roaring in a perfect circle that expanded outwards. As the fires from his Fire Circle died down, he charged ahead, yelling a war cry before facing an Irimage head on. The mage was immediately cut down by his sword, before he lunged forward, splitting another Techno in half. Blood sprayed in the air from his vicious attack, but Glorfindel didn’t care anymore. He could feel the power surging with him, giving him the strength that he wouldn’t have had if he was just a normal Techno-Verno hybrid.

Suddenly a chill entered his mind and he felt the presence of something familiar, yet alien at the same time. He froze as he sensed the growing presence…he knew what they were…

_Come to us…Children of Iluvatar…come to us and be free of your bonds…_

_Come…_

_Join us and have power beyond your limits…_

_Come…_

Their siren cry rang through his mind and Glorfindel shook his head slightly, trying to will them away but they wouldn’t stop. He growled underneath his breath as he _pushed_ the voices away and slammed up mental barriers. Shadow Elves – fallen Vanyar and Eldar along with a few Moriquendi and Umanjar Elves; all of them who had fell to shadow but had not gone to the service of Orcs and instead had embraced the dark powers within, turning them into Irimages only to server their master whose name Glorfindel didn’t know.

These were the deadliest of opponents, their strength and power rivaling the Nazgul who were former servants of Sauron, now with him dead, their allegiance changed to Sauron’s master Morgoth.

Glorfindel touched his earpiece to contact all of his troops in the area, “Shadow Elves, number unknown – proceed with extreme caution.” He touched another button on a wrist band he had and the channel switched to a direct link with Cirdan’s flagship, the _Toriath_. “Cirdan, there are Shadow Elves here. We can’t estimate the number right now,” Glorfindel suddenly ducked as a troll waved a halberd where his head used to be and he immediately side-stepped before lunging forward, skewering the troll in the heart, killing the creature instantly.

Pulling out his sword, he turned around and threw a burst of light at a group of orcs who were immediately incinerated before touching his ear piece, “What did you say? I didn’t copy.”

“Rinaran’s task force is also trapped by Shadow Elves. They knew we were coming. It’s a good bet that Saruman is probably somewhere on this battlefield. We’ve got your backs, but at this rate I don’t know how long,” Cirdan’s voice came over, a bit strained, but Glorfindel could hear anger in it.

“Don’t take-“

Glorfindel was cut off as an animalistic, almost metallic roar filled the air and reverberated though his ears, cutting to his core. His eyes widened a bit as he recognized the sound. It was a sound that chilled him to the core and he hated it…

He suddenly saw himself fighting in a blizzard of snow, rock, and fire…battling a creature of Morgoth – something that he had corrupted from Arien, the Maia who was to take care of all these beings of fire and light now fire and shadow.

Glorfindel suddenly snapped out the vision barely in time to catch the fiery blade of a Balrog that had charged at him. He gritted his teeth in an effort to keep the blade from falling on him, but it wasn’t easy as he held Raithen up, shaking rather violently against the strength of the Balrog.

Fire on fire…he hated Balrogs…


	37. Rebirth

Rinaran flew through a cloud of blood that was the remnants of a dragon she had been battling with in her fighter. She pushed forward on her stick and her fighter swooped downward, pressing the trigger on the stick, she let loose a volley of elemental bullets, her magical energy turning the once lead projectiles into deadlier shards of rocks, mini fireballs, and hail the size of golf balls. They peppered the ground where a slew of mages, orcs, and trolls fell to the ground. A few of the Shadow Elves that were hiding in the Big Ben that had come to assist in ground battle immediately put shields up and the elemental bullets pinged off of their shields.

Some retaliated with sprays of lightning and fire at her fighter and she twisted and turned, quickly rolling out of the way of a fire column that was blasted high into the air. She immediately heard a boom of a fighter exploding and looked up to see the remaining shards of one of Daisy Squadron’s fighters falling to the ground the sudden swirl of magical energy spiraling down towards the Shadow Elf that had blasted the fighter to pieces.

They couldn’t stand this for much longer – they had to get back to the carriers to refuel and to assess their injuries. Staying in this death trap would be the end of them.

“Tirilas!” she called over her comm. patched to the command submarine.

“Go now!” Tirilas’ voice replied after a few seconds of silence and underneath her she could see a few of the submarines that had been in the Thames rising up, and immediately a group of Elves came pouring out of the top hatch and side hatches, all dressed in armor. She recognized the Tirilas’ armor, a similar design of Cirdan’s own armor and knew that the Captain was making his last stand so they could get away. Even before the first Elf was out, magic was thrown at the enemy and she smiled grimly, tipping her wings in a farewell to them before switching the comm. channel to her whole wing.

“Obsidian Wing, blast those barriers!” she called out, targeting the barrier that was put up by the Shadow Elves, that she saw through her scanning spell. “This is Hawk Leader, firing last of missiles, make ‘em count boys and girls.”

A chorus of replies from those who were still left in Obsidian Wing echoed hers and the flares of missiles flew towards a section of the Thames that looked invisible to the naked eye, but it was where the barrier was. Each of the missiles fired had a unique barrier-penetrating spell on them and Rinaran hoped that the combination of spells was strong enough to take down a Shadow Elf built barrier.

The few seconds it took for the missiles to reach the barrier felt like a lifetime, but suddenly the water around the Thames exploded into a myriad of colors and through her scanning spell still in place, she could see that the barrier was crumbling.

“YES!!” the cheers of both the usually reserved Tamir of Diablo Squadron and Seilith of Daisy drowned out the rest of the chatter coming into her comm. feed. She immediately switched channels to a broadcast to all allies in the area.

“All squadrons and ships, move out! Best speed! Katana and Hawk Squadron will cover the submarines. Diablo and Daisy, head to the carriers as fast as you can and report to Cirdan!”

She tipped her wing and swung around, Hawk Four forming on her left side to become her new wingman and Rinaran looked around at both Katana and Hawk and realized that with the fighters they currently had they could form their own squadron…too many had been lost and still the battle had not been won yet. With grim determination, she clicked her comm. to Hawk Four before tipping her wing slightly to indicate a firing run.

A click of acknowledgement came back and the two fighters soared from their position and back down onto the battlefield of London.

* * *

Glorfindel felt his heels digging into the dirt ground as he summoned up all of his strength and broke the stalemate between him and the Balrog. Backing up slightly, he could feel the winds of the storm that was brewing in the skies pick up, swirling the cloak that was around his armor, a few strands of his blond hair that had gotten loose from his tie blowing into his face, but he didn’t care and kept his eyes carefully on his opponent in front of him.

He could see the red glowing eyes of the Shadow Elves creeping up on him and wondered if they were going to attack. It seemed like they were waiting…watching him battle the Balrog. If he defeated the Balrog, he would have to quickly summon a miracle to stop the onslaught of Shadow Elves that would surely kill him in that instance.

He decided to ignore them for now as they seemed like they were only observers to their battle and instead, summoned a bright glowing shield in his left hand, his right hand wielding his sword. _Raithen_ flared brightly as he felt the anticipation of a battle. He hadn’t felt this confident since…

Wait a minute; he hadn’t felt confident facing a Balrog. He hated these creatures. They struck an unknown fear in him and he didn’t know how to cope with it. Why did he feel confident right now? Why was he determined to face down this Balrog besides the fact that he didn’t want to die? Glorfindel blinked…he did die…a long time ago?

No, he had never died, he had been born in the last years of the First Age and he had never died…or did he? Squeezing his eyes shut for a brief moment to dispel the confusing thoughts, he opened them again and glared at the Balrog who roared at him, blasting him with an intense heat that radiated from the fallen fire Maia. He had heard that of all the fire creatures created by Eru, Arien was the only fire Maia not to fall to the shadow that was Morgoth.

“ _You will submit_ ,” the Balrog growled and he felt a wave of power wash over him, trying to force his body to stand down from the fight. He fought against the compulsion, putting every ounce of strength he had in his will to stop the compulsion from taking over. Gritting his teeth he suddenly forced the compulsion away with a yell as he pushed up against the Balrog, breaking the stalemate.

He backed up a few steps, his breathing coming in slight gasps as he stared at the Balrog who was glaring down at him with narrowed eyes.

“You are stronger than I had anticipated…very well then…” the Balrog held up his free hand and suddenly brought it crashing down towards him. Glorfindel dived out of the way, rolling to his feet just in time to hear the crack of a whip before he raised his sword as the tip of the fiery whip of the Balrog wrapped itself around his sword. He kept a firm grip on his sword as the Balrog tugged hard and dug his feet into the ground.

“You will never turn me! I serve the forces of Light! I serve no one but Iluvatar and of Eru!” he yelled – something that sounded odd to his ears, but somehow he knew that it was right. He kept a firm grip on _Raithen_ , which flared even brighter, and splayed out his fingers and a spray of water burst forth, shooting towards the Balrog.

The Balrog screamed in pain as the water hit him and steam rose from his wound before he swung down on his sword. The golden-haired Elf ducked and released _Raithen_ to which his sword went flying wildly into the air, where it was caught by one of the Nazgul who was circling the air, watching the battle with great interest. Glorfindel only saw a brief flash and knew that the Nazgul had broken his sword.

He ran towards the Balrog, hands outstretched and summoned two white flaming swords into his hands and cut at the Balrog’s legs, feeling the intense flame of the fire Maia burn all around him. The edges of his robes were singed and he could feel his skin blister a bit, but he didn’t care. He had to get close to the Balrog in order to defeat him.

As soon as his swords cut into the Balrog’s legs, the creature howled in pain before he took a few steps back, trampling a few Shadow Elves that were too concentrated on their spells. Glorfindel stepped back sweat beading on his brow. He could feel his skin pull slightly in pain and knew that he at least got a few 3rd degree burns…but that was the least of his worries at the moment. The Balrog regained his balance and stared down at him, eyes full of hatred.

“You will never beat me. You are not Fingolfin-“

“Nor are you Gothmog,” Glorfindel countered as he unsummoned the swords and placed his hand together before a column of water burst forth from his palms. Immediately the Balrog dropped his whip and sword before summoning a column of fire and the two elemental forces hit each other head on, creating a huge cloud of steam and vapor. But even through the steam of the two spells colliding, Glorfindel could feel himself being pushed backwards by the force of the fire spell the Balrog was conjuring.

He doubled his efforts, trying to stay his feet from slipping across the terrain. A quick glance behind him told him that the Shadow Elves had moved out of his way and he was being pushed towards the edge of a cliff… He dug in his heels, straining his magic as he continued the column of water at the Balrog. He could hear faint chanting that was getting louder and louder by the second and knew that the Shadow Elves were trying to break his concentration. No! He wouldn’t fall to their petty tricks! He was above them!

“I will not fall, I will not fail those that I protect with my life. I am of the Noldor blood and of Eldar! I defeated fought and bested the Witch King in Angmar, foretelling his doom in the Shield Maiden of Rohan and the Halfling of the Shire’s hands,” he whispered to himself as he focused on all of his inner being to stop this dark creature of fire.

Overhead, the screams of the Nazgul were heard and Glorfindel closed his eyes, reaching deep within him. He could feel the spark of power lying dormant inside of him. Tentatively he touched it, not knowing how much of that power will consume him, but he willed himself that he wouldn’t fall or fail his friends here. No, Saruman needed to be stopped and ultimately, these creatures couldn’t be allowed to join Morgoth again.

There would be no battle in the mountains of Thorondor and his Eagles – no more falling from Crissaegrim…the Balrog and those Shadow Elves would be stopped here and now!

He would not fail!

Glorfindel touched the spark of power and his whole vision was filled with pure white light. His head jerked up with such a surge of power and his eyes opened, but he didn’t see anything except for all of his visions and life flash by his eyes. He saw himself dressed in the robes of the time before the Ages began, the First Age – he was battling the Balrogs in the mountains where the Eagles lived and saving his commander Turgon from certain defeat!

He saw himself falling over the edge of the snowy cliff, taking with him one of those cursed Balrogs…everything became dark but a grey light filled his vision…he was talking with Mandos – he had been in the Halls…

“ _You will live your life once more, Glorfindel of the Eldar,” Mandos spoke to him in a kind but neutral voice, “but you will not have memories of your past…”_

“ _I understand,” he nodded._

Suddenly all became a tunnel and flashes of his feats and life passed before his eyes. _I will not fail! I will not fall to shadow! I am a servant of the Light of Iluvatar! I am the shining beacon of what was once was, and still is. There is nothing that will stand in my way as I will lead my men to battle once more! Of those shadows they will fear the light that has come upon them!_

Glorfindel suddenly snapped open his eyes and they were as hard as crystals. “You fall today, Balrog. I am Eldar,” he hissed as from his body pure white light poured from his soul and spread all over the battlefield – a beacon of good eradicating evil.

Glorfindel of the Noldorian Eldar line had returned, his memories restored from before he was released from the Halls of Mandos to rejoin the land of the living.

* * *

Cirdan was in the midst of giving battle orders to his fleet and protecting his remaining submarines that had made it from the trap that had been set by Saruman in London, when he felt a surge of familiarity before gasps of wonderment from his crewmen made him look out the bridge window to see in the far distance, near one of the cliffs of Southend-on-Sea, a bright white light that spread in all directions.

A grin lit up his face, as he knew who was at the cliff face. “So, you’ve returned, Glorfindel,” he whispered. He could feel the pure light that flowed over his ships and bridge, bathing everyone with renewed energy.

“Sir! The enemy, they’re in chaos!”

“That’s our chance,” Cirdan barked, “I want targeting solutions on all enemy ships. Tell the carriers to launch whatever fighters they have left and to destroy every last bit of Saruman’s forces!”

“Aye sir!” the crew suddenly burst into renewed life, their strain of seeing losses pile up after these few hours of battling long forgotten.

Cirdan turned towards where he saw a glowing white figure utterly destroying the Balrog and Shadow Elves around him and a small smile quirked on the corner of his lips, “What took you so long?”

* * *

Rinaran had to shield her eyes from the blinding white light that erupted from Glorfindel down in the battlefield, but what she felt was a warm feeling of renewed energy, a boost of morale and the hope that carried within her commander. As soon as the light died down, she angled her fighter so that she saw just a white blur decimating the enemy forces.

A part of her wanted to cheer, but she knew that she had her job to do. Keying her comm to Hawk Squadron, cobbled together from the remaining pilots of Obsidian Wing that weren’t injured badly from their escape, they had refueled aboard the carriers and took off immediately for another round of fighting.

“Hawk, that was just the commander giving us a boost in morale. Let’s not disappoint him,” she smirked knowing full well that the rest of her squadron couldn’t see her, but they could hear the ruthless humor in her voice.

“Hell yeah,” Seilith replied over the comm, “Hawk Five, Fox Two, Fox Three.”

“Hawk Lead, Fox One, Fox Four,” Rinaran followed suit and the rest of Hawk Squadron let loose their missiles that impacted and blossomed their deadly package all upon the enemy, carefully avoiding their allies who were also on the battlefield.

* * *

The battle was shortly won in due order and Saruman was brought to the command ship, the _Toriath_ where both Osse and Uinen held the reincarnated Maia at bay.

“He will be taken for judgment, Lord Cirdan, Lord Glorfindel,” Uinen said in a watery, but melodic voice, her wavy green hair rippled occasionally with a splash of water. “We shall return Lords, but until then…the battle has been won.”

With a sudden splash, Osse, Uinen, and Saruman disappeared, leaving Cirdan, Glorfindel and Rinaran on the empty bridge. The rest of the fleet and crewmen had gone ashore to clean up any remnant enemy forces and some were just enjoying themselves on the once blackened skies of England, but now it was filled with bright sunny light that poured its grace and peace upon the battle weary forces.

Glorfindel stared out o f the viewport, hearing a few seagulls cry out as they searched and picked at the bodies of orcs, Shadow Elves, mages, and trolls, finding a feast for their hungry mouths. He let a ghost of a smile form on his lips before a hand on his shoulder made him turn slightly to see a smile on Cirdan’s face.

He was aware of the fact that he no longer possessed the red-gold armor of the Golden City and instead wore a white-gold armor, a sign of his rebirth and change to complete Eldar status. He was also aware that he glowed slightly with all of the power that was inside of him, untapped, and dimmed the glow slightly as not to blind anyone near him.

“What took you so long to realize you were the original Glorfindel?” Cirdan asked in a gentle teasing voice.

“A battle with my self and with my memories,” he replied softly, “it was not of the Balrog or of the fallen Vanyar; it was with myself.”

Cirdan released his grip on his shoulder and clapped him once on the back, “Whatever it was, it’s good to have you back again, old friend.”

“Thank you,” Glorfindel bowed his head slightly, “it is good to be back.”

“Um…m-milord?” Rinaran’s timid voice made him turn slightly to see her shrink back at the sight of him and he smiled.

“Rinaran, I’m still Glorfindel, Elrond’s Guard-General. Nothing’s changed, even though now that I realize it, I’m technically a lot older than he is…”

The female Swordmaiden laughed hesitantly and he shook his head, “Commander Rinaran, relax. Yes I am Eldar, but I am also of the Golden City. There is no difference in your treatment towards me. Is that clear?”

“Yes sir,” Rinaran finally relaxed before she stared out at the blue sea, “so now what?”

“The Nazgul escaped as did some of the Shadow Elves. It is a good chance Morgoth now knows what I’ve become,” Glorfindel also stared out of the viewport, “the next step is to keep retaking the lands that Morgoth controls. We’ll need to contact Paris and see if General Ruthersfield was successful in establishing contact with the Reincarnated King Theoden. Our next goal should be Amsterdam and Rotterdam.”

“The port cities will be hard, but we will not fail,” Cirdan added his assessment and Glorfindel nodded.

The first major battle had been won against Morgoth.


	38. Gandalf, Sam & Fred

It was said that no ordinary humans nor Elves could view them, but Fred realized that either Professor Tolkien was on drugs when he wrote that fact down, or he, Fredrick Baskerville, was able to see things no one else could. But that also meant that Sam was also able to see the things that no humans or Elves, except a few, have ever laid their eyes on. The Council Halls of the Valar and Maiar…

The light of the First Children of Iluvatar was supposed to be too bright for any mortals to view, but surprisingly, Fred found himself seeing these God-like beings. He briefly wondered if they “powered down” their brightness just for their sake, but shove that thought out of his head as he stared at their majestic beauty. He recognized Lorien, the Master of Dreams, Nienna the Weeper, and Vaire the Weaver among the group of Valar and Maiar gathered.

“Olorin, what is the meaning of this?” a sudden booming voice barked out and Fred looked up at the source of the booming voice, startled.

It was one of the Valar, Fred was sure of it, and the Valar looked pissed. His raven black hair was long and flowed like a river down his back, and he had piercing green almond-shaped eyes. He looked a bit Asian, yet he didn’t at the same time – exotic was what he would have called the Valar. His clothes were simplistic, yet they were cut in such a way that Fred thought he saw wisps of clouds and wind blowing by on the dark blue-black clothes.

“I would have thought, Lord Manwe, that you knew we were coming and you and the others of this Council shifted to your human forms to let these two mortals look upon you,” Gandalf replied in a slightly cheeky tone and Fred felt his eyes widen like saucers.

From all that he heard of Manwe, he was the Lord of the Valar; the head honcho…the one in charge, and someone not to trifle with. Not even the other Valar or Maiar would dare speak to Manwe in such manner, but perhaps Professor Tolkien was wrong in his assessment when he wrote The Silmarillion – either that he had misread the book completely.

“That’s Manwe?” Sam squeaked beside him and Fred froze as the Wind King raked his piercing eyes over them. He could feel the power overwhelm him and realized that even in his human form, the Wind King was only using a fraction of his power given to him by Eru. He knew that if Manwe had used his full power, he and Sam would just be little piles of soot on the ground – perhaps not even soot, maybe just atoms floating in the air. That Vala was scary.

“Hmph,” Manwe sniffed before turning slightly in disdain, “you’re cheek will be forgiven this time Olorin. Do not presume otherwise next time.”

“Your forgiveness Lord,” Fred was treated to another sight as Gandalf bowed to the Wind King. Of all the years he had known the Maia as both Professor White and as Gandalf, Reincarnated or not, he had never seen him bow or defer to anyone else, save Lorien his master. “May I present to you and the others of this Council, Frederick Baskerville, the Reincarnation of Frodo Baggins of the Shire, and his faithful companion Sam Granger, Reincarnation of Samwise Gamgee of also the Shire.”

All eyes of the Council stared at both him and Sam and Fred suddenly felt very small in front of the most powerful gods in the universe. He unconsciously flattened his hair, and bowed slightly before looking around at the others. All of them had human forms, some more exotic than others with different shades of skin color, ranging from normal browns and olives to tints of even blue and green. Except for one.

“That is Arien, the Fire Maia, the only one of her elemental kind not to turn evil to Morgoth’s rule,” Gandalf whispered to him, noticing where his gaze was as the Valar and Maiar started to whisper among each other while pointing at them.

“Oh,” Fred said as he tried not to stare at the fire Maia. She was extremely beautiful, her form was humanoid, but it was completely covered in fire that curled and danced all around her. She wore only a simple toga of white and her eyes were completely yellow and pulsating with power.

He blushed as she caught him looking at her and waved a bit, a smile lighting up her face. Adverting his gaze, he tried to focus on the female Valar that was next to Manwe. That had to be Varda, the patron of all of the Elves. Her outfit betrayed who she was as it was midnight blue and looked to be reflective of all galaxies and stars that rotated in slow orbit around her. She had wavy midnight black hair and her eyes were dark blue.

“This Council will be called to order,” Manwe’s booming voice suddenly overrode all of the whispers and Fred suddenly found himself seated next to Sam and Gandalf, in the middle of an amphitheater like area, surrounded by the Council members. “We have gathered here to discuss the future of the Earth and of the Children. Presenting this case to us, is Olorin, servant of Lorien, and he has with him his two charges. Now I give you, Frederick and Sam, what cause do the Valar and Maiar have to go to war against Melkor?”

Fred felt his jaw drop slightly in surprise as he realize what was the special mission Gandalf wanted them to go on. He had originally been disappointed that he wasn’t traveling with neither Matt nor Phil and instead was being taken to somewhere else by Gandalf who hadn’t said a word about this. He and Sam were here because the Elves and Humans needed help from the Valar and Maiar to defeat Morgoth, or as it seemed that the Valar still knew him as Melkor.

It meant that their help depended on his and Sam’s case and presentation to the Council. They had a huge responsibility and he managed to close his mouth enough to dry swallow whatever moisture he had in his throat left from that shocking statement.

He took a quick second to try to compose his initial thoughts before standing up and bowing a bit more respectfully than he initially had towards the Council and said, “There is no cause for you my Lords and Ladies, but the price of the lack of your involvement will cause such a ripple effect in your society and power that it will upset the balance of the world.”

He paused for a second to which one of the Valar he identified as Mandos, the Keeper of the Dead, stood. The man looked like a Nazgul when seen through the power of the One Ring and Fred tried to suppress a shudder of fear that ran through him. He dug up all the knowledge he had about the Valar and Maiar that he read from Tolkien’s books, and from his Reincarnated memories that apparently had also dealt with some of the Valar and Maiar in the various Ages he existed after he was Frodo Baggins.

“Why not have the balance fall to all of the goodness that is in the world? Why should we just let Melkor be defeated and keep the good in the world? That’s what happened after the Third Age,” Mandos barked at him before sitting down, smoothing his sickly milky white-green robes. A few murmurs came with his assessment.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about him…he just seems a bit off,” Sam whispered beside him before sitting back. Fred nodded fractionally; he too had a feeling that Mandos wasn’t what he seemed. He wasn’t like the other Valar that showed neutrality and beacons of shining light. Perhaps it was just because the Vala was the Keeper of the Dead and spent too much time in the company of them, but he had a feeling that it wasn’t the case and instead was something else.

He remembered what Lorien had said about Mandos possibly falling into Morgoth’s league, but if he had, he didn’t really show it right now. Maybe he was just imagining things, but he vowed to be very cautious about his information when he was in the presence of the Vala. No sense spilling everything he knew to be true.

“Then what of the good that is in the world?” the words that spilled from his mouth seemed a bit off for his normal speech and he knew that it had to be one of his Reincarnated forms taking over what he said. It was eloquent and different from the way he was used to talking with the students of Columbia University and his friends, heck even Gandalf. “As I understand it, you, the Valar, are supposed to keep the balance between the good and the evil in this world. Whereas Eru created this world to be a haven of sorts, he also created his Children to be smart enough to fend for themselves. All of you, the Elves, and us, descendents of Men.

“But with the price of independence and freedom, comes the knowledge that everything in this world cannot be just ‘good’. There always has to be a bit of evil left over. There always has to be conflict,” as he spoke, he saw unbidden memories of his former lives and realized that a majority of them were either observers to various events in history, events that changed the course of the world, or they were of evil and suffering. Sometimes, he had participated in the suffering, but other times, he was forced to watch, and he understood why this was happening.

“With this conflict, you are able to grow and survive, and realize the mistakes you’ve done in order to improve upon your previous errors. That is why, I suppose, you deemed yourselves to be Gods over the other Children, to help guide them along their paths to peace, occasionally creating conflict along the way.”

“Then why do you suppose we wanted it this way? Why not just leave everything alone?” this time a crystal clear female voice spoke and Fred turned to his left to see a child speak up, except she looked like a creepy adult at the same time. He realized that it was Vana the Youthful, forever a child-adult…and scary…

“Because you don’t like giving up control,” Sam suddenly spoke up next to him in a slightly patronizing tone, and Fred sat back down to let his best friend to speak. He wondered if his friend was using his head, but then realized that Sam had always been more direct with people and explanations than he was. He hoped that his best friend didn’t end up angering the Valar and Maiar gathered here. Taking a quick look at Gandalf, he saw that the wizard wasn’t doing anything to help or assist, and wondered what was Gandalf’s role here in this meeting. Was he being held back by the rules that were set upon him by his master Lorien?

“You are the Gods, for crying out loud. You love to control every aspect of others lives. You live for that control, for that chance to see what you can do to either make the world blossom or screw it up for others,” Sam spread his hands out, turning around full circle to stare at each one of them, “that is why you have your domains. You each love to control certain aspects, and this is probably why some of the Elves revolted against you, or didn’t heed your advice to come from Middle Earth back to Valinor! They didn’t want to listen to you, like teenagers to parents. You realized that there was a time when your Children would revolt against you and you tried everything to put that down.

“Well there you go, that is a form of evil that you didn’t like! So you set rules for yourselves, rules you had everyone else follow. You didn’t want anything to happen to your paradise and so you bound everything together in any shape of form you could have. You have this council, yet you have the stifling rules of a totalitarian government,” Sam said in a hard cold voice, “here you bound Gandalf to your rules. You, Lorien the Dreamer, bound him to your service, unable to interfere in certain aspects of our way. I ask you this, why?!” He jabbed a finger at the Master of Dreams and Fred blinked, praying that his best friend wouldn’t turn into a charred crisp from the daggers the Master of Dreams was shooting at him. He noticed through the corner of his eyes that even Gandalf was surprised at Sam’s brevity.

“You most certainly have the audacity to accuse me, Sam Granger,” Lorien stood up slowly like a flag unfurling in the wind, his face impassive and different than what they had seen him at Professor White’s classroom at the University. “Do you know what power you stand in front of? Do you know of your words that you accuse us of?”

Sam suddenly had a stricken look on his face as he realized what he had done, and started to mouth something, but no sound came out. Fred narrowed his eyes slightly before jumping in front of his friend to shield him from the wrath of the Vala. “I know of what he says. I know his words because they are my own!” he shouted at Lorien.

“You provided us with these Reincarnated memories to realize what we have done in the past. Sure you knew what our lives were and you knew something like this was going to happen. Don’t feign ignorance whereas you knew what we were going to say with our memories besieging us. Melkor is the evil of this world because you stifled too many rules upon him. Yes, he might have been born evil, he might have been created as some potent form of it, lusting after more powers of the Vala, but you brought that upon yourself.

“So in all, you, the Valar of Eru, are at fault for creating such an evil. And you dare ask why should you not get involved?” Fred pushed Sam back; ready for anything the Valar and Maiar were going to throw at him. As he turned slowly around, watching the gazes of those around him, he saw that a few of them had impassive faces, while others were staring at him in anger, but he saw to his surprise, smiles, on a few of their faces, especially on Arien’s face.

“Brave words for such a mortal as yourself, Frederick Baskerville,” Manwe suddenly stood, waving his hands to calm the others before stepping forward, “you talk as if we were equals.”

“In this council, we are,” Fred shot back, “because you and I have the same goals. The destruction of Melkor and the peace of the Earth.”

“Then I suggest you look upon the world. As history is repeating itself,” Manwe waved his hand and a portal of sorts appeared next to him, showing images of troops walking towards a city that was brimming with evil. Fred felt his heart seize up as he saw Alec and his troops marching towards that city. He knew that city very well, as during the Nano War, he had been a historian covering the awful battle that had occurred there. No, it hadn’t been a battle, it had been a massacre.

The city was Therin’s Hill, and by what Manwe had said, history was going to repeat itself…


End file.
